


Wei Wuxian is the Actual Bogeyman (no, really)

by chatonnerie



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Anyways, Crack, Death, I mean, Jack Frost cannonically dies, M/M, Rise of the Guardians AU, TW:, WangXian, behold another crossover, but christmas edition!, i mean they literally call wwx the bogeyman my poor brain could not resist, let's start with that, not gonna lie, this is getting written in a fever dream, watch me hug my brand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 57,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21872590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatonnerie/pseuds/chatonnerie
Summary: 1300 years ago, the Guardians defeated the Bogeyman and drove him and his Night Mares back into their realm of darkness.(Except, they sort of didn't, because Wei Wuxian would prefer to argue that he gave up and they got lucky, and his realm isn't Dark thank you very much, it's got Ambience.)So why was it, now that he's back, that they seemed to uncharacteristically Not want to turn on him?(Could be the Mechanical Body Parts, the corrupted Night Mares, the rogue Spirits and the corruption within the Court of the Moon itself)And no one is acting more out of character than Lan Wangji(We all know why)
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Comments: 177
Kudos: 1318





	1. A Quick Peek and other lies Wei Wuxian tells himself

**Author's Note:**

> Rise of the Guardians Au (hopefully) in time for Christmas!!

Wei Wuxian liked to think he had been minding his own business.

1300 years was admittedly a long time to be doing such a thing, but the end of the Dark Ages had made it very clear that the Guardians had not wanted him around. He supposed a typical villain would plot their vengeance, lurk in the darkness, all too ready to strike back at the first chance they got. But he had been tired (oh so tired) after the whole mess that he’d barely resisted as he was dragged back down into the Under Realm, confined to his personal dominion as the last of his believers faded away. Despite everyone believing the contrary, he had never had issues with his underground domain, no fervent desire to escape to the world above and took great delight in dwelling within.

(Even if it brought up memories of another underground realm he used to share)

Simply put, Wei Wuxian just didn’t _care_. He was tired, he had always been lazy and it wasn’t like the people he missed would miss him in return. So, without any sort of hesitation, Wei Wuxian had tucked himself nice and snug in his shadows and been perfectly content to doddle around at his own leisure whilst the whole world forgot about him.

So.

If anyone asked.

It had not been because of any action of his own.

He had woken up from the not-quite-sleep their kind did more for personal interest than any sort of real need, to find the most unusual hum filling the air. He had drifted out and wandered between the looming black arches and gaping hallways, with only his own shadow to accompany him.

(Once he’d had a whole family at his side)

There, right at the epicentre of his dominion, where every upside down, twisting, nonsensical stairway led if you could be bothered to walk all the way, was a globe of the world, wrought from iron and pulsing with red energy. 

(The globe had been dark for 1300 years)

There, all alone, a single red light shone brightly. 

“Well, what do you know?” he hummed, voice rolling through the empty halls. When had he last used it? 

(Someone believed)

He could almost hear the voices of the Council. All of them whining and arguing, proclaiming the instant the Bogeyman got loose that it was to come back to wreak his awful vengeance on the world. How quickly they would call up the Guardians to shut him away and protect the children.

But hey.

He was curious. He slipped through the shadows, calling on his power for the first time in centuries, finally having something to do. The edges of his domain were marked with immense closed doors, sealed and silent for the duration of his house arrest.

(Someone believed)

He reached out and lightly knocked on the doors.

“Time to open up!” he called cheerfully, “I want to go check on them!”

For a moment, everything was silent, still, as unresponsive as it had always been.

There was a faint creak. He stepped back, smile broadening as red and black energy gathered, lighting up the great doors. The entire domain shuddered, quivered, _alive._ His power surged through him and he grinned, lazily flinging his hands forward.

The doors thundered open, eager and willing, slamming apart to free their Master. Power flowed through his veins as the world above reconnected and he inhaled, before immediately sneezing.

Yeesh.

Weren’t the Guardians meant to keep his Fear at bay? Hadn’t that been the whole point of their mighty endeavour all those years go? But look at that - just one whiff and he could feel it churning from every part of society. It was _everywhere_.

It was tempting, to call it to him, to rile up his veins and charge his being.

(No)

(Never again)

Instead, he just twirled a small amount around his finger. It was a childish fear - a small girl afraid of the immense horse her father was leading her past on the way to the ponies. But it was enough - a glimpse of the world, of the times and he danced his mind between them all, delighted.

Ah, the world really had become such a nice place.

He went to step forward and then paused, glancing down at the robes he’d worn for centuries. He’d never considered them old-fashioned, but he supposed that was indeed what they were now. A quick click of his fingers and they vanished, replaced with loose black jeans, a t-shirt and black and red threaded hoodie.

(He kept the hair as it was though, merely tying it up with a red ribbon. Screw short hair)

He went barefoot too, because honestly, who cared.

He gave a twirl, eyeing his new, _modern_ outfit in the reflective black metal of the walls.

“What do we think?” he called, personally delighted.

The domain rumbled approval, the energy finally giving it back its voice. He beamed, patting the wall affectionately. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t be long. Just a _quick_ peek.”

A thrum of humouring agreement echoed back, and he sighed.

“Aiyoh, who’s your Master, huh? You take far more after Wen Qing.”

He thought it felt pleased at that.

He turned back to face the now open exit and exhaled, lifting up a hand and gathering its power.

He had honestly meant it. Just a quick peek.

He thought of that one lone light and reached up. Stepping forward, his body walked into the shadows and he rose to the world above.

“You’re not a child?”

In retrospect, he mused, a tad regretful, that was probably not the first thing he should have said as he emerged from the shadows under his new believer’s bed. A product of 1300 years of degenerating social skills, perhaps. But, it was, however, a fair observation.

The man, mid-twenties he’d wager, just continued to scream from where he’d tumbled to the ground, agape and eyes blown white with panic.

Panic because he could _see_ the man who had seemingly appeared from thin air before him.

(Wei Wuxian preened)

“You okay there, man?” he asked, lighting down on the bed and crossing his legs, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost~”

“You . . . you . . .”

“Don’t know why you’re so shocked. You’re the one who called out to _me_ , after all.”

“I . . . did?” The man’s eyes flitted to him, to where he’d come from, and his entire face went white, “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.” Wei Wuxian bowed lax-a-daisically, “Wei Wuxian, the Bogeyman, Master of Fear, the Monster under the Bed, at your service.”

“. . . Really?”

“Well, no, lurking under beds is super creepy. It _is_ however a very convenient shadow to always come out from.”

“No, I mean,” carefully the man got to his feet, looking him up and down, “you’re actually the Bogeyman?”

“I am indeed,” Wei Wuxian winked, “and yeah, I know. I don’t look anything like some demonic hell beast or whatever else you were thinking of. Don’t get too disappointed.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not.” The man quickly stammered out, looking faintly pale at the thought, “This is good.”

Wei Wuxian grinned, “So anyway. Who are you and why were you calling for me?”

The man blinked, before startling. “Oh, right, umm. I’m . . . My name is Mo Xuanyu.”

“A-Yu then,” the man blinked at him, surprised and Wei Wuxian smiled, reassuringly, “Don’t worry, you believe in me. It’s my job to look out for you.”

“O-oh?” Mo Xuanyu flushed, hands moving to fold over his chest, “. . . why?”

His shirt sleeves rode up with the action and Wei Wuxian stared, stonily, at the bouquet of bruises such an action revealed. At the three lines still bleeding on his wrist.

Somewhere in the house, a door slammed, and the man jumped. Wei Wuxian felt a small pool of indignation, mixed with some understanding. Lightly floating over, he reached out, stopping before he touched the man.

“Do you mind?”

He did. Mo Xuanyu’s eyes flitted between his wrist and Wei Wuxian’s outstretched hands, a shiver crossing through his whole being.

Slowly, timider than even Wen Ning had been, he shook his head. Wei Wuxian took up the bleeding wrist, as softly as he could, and examined the slits. He didn’t have a lot of power, nowhere near his old abilities, but this should be easy enough.

_Directly interacting with mortals is forbidden_

He could almost hear the rumble, the golden eyes narrowed in disapproval, and he had to fiercely suppress the giggle as he ran his finger over the injury, hands warm with his power. Mo Xuanyu inhaled, awe filling his face, as the cuts slowly began to seal up, shrinking to pale scars instead of open wounds. Wei Wuxian hummed, pleased, wiping off the worst of the dried blood with his sleeve.

“There! All better.”

“Holy fuck.” Mo Xuanyu just lifted up his wrist, twisting it back and forth in amazement. “Okay. I’ll buy it. You’re legit. Or I’m just high as fuck.”

“Both valid explanations,” he kicked off the ground, reclining in the air and drifting through the room. “So, what’s up? Just general belief? Or some specific wish?”

“Seriously?” Mo Xuanyu just stared at him, “You do this sort of thing?”

“Yes and No.”

“. . . ?”

“Well, yes, because we’re meant to help out the people who believe in us. No, because I’m definitely going to get an earful if anyone learns I let you see me.”

(He’d probably get a lot more than an earful if the Guardians learnt he’d returned to the world above, but he was choosing not to think about it)

“We?” Mo Xuanyu moved back to his bed, sitting up on it with his legs folded, eyes wide. Wei Wuxian nodded, coming down to perch atop the end of the bed.

“Oh yeah. Name someone and they’re real. The beliefs of mortals are way stronger than you lot give yourselves credit for.”

“Should you just be _telling_ me all this?” the human just muttered, incredulous and Wei Wuxian snickered.

“Oh, no way in hell. But hey, as long as you don’t tell, no one’s going ask. Just don’t stare if you see a moody guy with big bunny ears and a purple jacket, hanging around on Easter Sunday.”

“. . . You’re not kidding.”

“He’s got a bad temper. Don’t mess with the Easter Bunny.”

“You’re really not kidding.” 

“You’re beginning to catch on, aren’t you?” Wei Wuxian grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here to talk when you wake up.”

Mo Xuanyu frowned, “What does that . . . mean . . . ?”

His whole body slackened and Wei Wuxian caught him as he slumped sideways. 

“Thank you, dears,” he waggled his fingers and the shadows, pulling free from where they’d been silently coaxing Mo Xuanyu back to sleep, danced with pride. Carefully, Wei Wuxian laid the man down on the bed, spreading the thin cover over the pale, uncared for, figure.

Now, he had better actually do this.

Coasting back into the air, he gazed around. A fairly empty room, small, only really holding a bed, a small box of belongings and something that he needed to dance through a couple blocks worth of subconsciouses to learn was a laptop. All in all, not a whole lot of love, wonder, hope and whatever else it was they preached about these days. Ah well, he’d get his answers soon enough. It was business and he could do his better than anyone.

But, oh, he couldn’t help the nostalgic pains as golden sand danced its way into the room.

He wondered how the golden peacock was doing these days.

(How she was doing these days)

He battered away those thoughts. Quick peek. This was a quick peek. Those thoughts were greatly tempting him to do a not so quick peek.

The fear in the room was thick, and it wasn’t even his fault. As the Dreamsand reached Mo Xuanyu, the leaking energy from the man quickly interfered with the gold, and he watched as it tainted itself black, a stream becoming a whirlpool, discontent and festering over the sleeping mortal.

He had not done this in a while, but hey, it was probably like riding a bike.

Reaching out, the distraught dream sand clung to his fingers and he allowed himself to fall in.

Walking through dreams was never fun, too loose and distorted for his liking. Like walking around in a desert, except the sand is black and the sky was black and you had no clue which way was forward or back, or up or down, with only the vaguest impressions of what was going on under your feet.

_Get Him! Get him! Get him!_

Ah. That sounded informative. 

He coasted through and paused at the Night Mares circling a small child, huffing and stomping their feet.

_Did you hear?_ _What a lunatic._

_Lock him up._

_Faggot. Pansy boy._

Mother.

_I heard he got fired_

_I heard he got arrested_

_I heard he assaulted someone_

Mother. Stay. Please

_Poor kid - I bet that woman beats him._

_His own mother committed suicide._

**I’m sorry. It wasn’t me. I swear it’s not my fault.**

Wei Wuxian grimaced. That was a long slew of not nice things the Night Mares were calling. Descending down, he let out a sharp whistle. They all startled, turning and cowering from him in, hah, fear. They all went to flee, but he whistled again. Obediently, the one he was staring at paused, shuffling nervously, riled up by both the mortal’s and its own fear.

Landing against the ‘ground’, he gently shook the small child’s shoulder.

“A-Yu? A-Yu?”

With a small sniffle, the small thing glanced up. His eyes widened. “You . . . You’re . . .”“That’s right, it’s me. Now come on - I want you to meet someone.”

He extended a pale hand and even paler fingers wrapped around it. Pulling the small thing to his feet, he turned and beckoned the Night Mare closer.

It whinnied, throwing its head around in a wave of black sand, golden eyes wide and confused.

“Come here~” Wei Wuxian crooned, as non-threatening as possible. Slowly, tentatively, the Night Mare came forward, ‘hooves’ clipping against the ‘ground’. Mini-Mo Xuanyu gasped, pressing himself up against Wei Wuxian’s legs.

“Don’t be afraid,” he reassured the boy, “look. It just wants to say hello.”

“It’s scary . . .” the boy whimpered and the Night Mare threw its head in response to the fear leaking from the child. Wei Wuxian ran soothing fingers through the boy’s hair, before reaching out and catching the Night Mare’s neck.

“Easy, easy,” he murmured, waiting for the creature to calm down, soon after pressing up against his hand and snuffling, “I think you’re both a bit scared. Getting to know new people is always a bit scary. Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“O . . . Okay,” Mo Xuanyu blinked up, “I’m Mo Xuanyu.”

The Night Mare huffed, but lowered its head anyway.

“Go on,” Wei Wuxian nodded encouragingly, and Mo Xuanyu watched him, wide eyed, before reaching out and tentatively sinking his small hand into the sand-like mane. His eyes widened as the Night Mare snuffled encouragingly, grinning and beginning to stroke up and down the neck.

“It’s warm . . . it’s like it’s real.”

“Fears are always real,” Wei Wuxian pointed out, and exaggerated his movements, “I’m going to back off now, okay?”

Mo Xuanyu looked a little panicked, but gently nodded. Slowly, carefully, Wei Wuxian lifted one hand off the boy’s head, then, even slower, backed off from holding the Night Mare. The great steed just snuffled, nudging eagerly into Mo Xuanyu’s comforting strokes. The boy let out a small laugh, shuffling closer.

Wei Wuxian’s own laugh echoed. “See? It likes you. Not so scary now, right?”

“Yeah,” Mo Xuanyu, the adult version, turned, courage shining in his eyes, as he ran hands down the length of the horse’s neck, face aglow. Wei Wuxian felt a small trickle of smug pride.

Carefully, without alerting either, he stepped out from the dream.

The room was as he had left it, the sun still a ways away, and Mo Xuanyu sleeping peacefully. Satisfied that his work _here_ was done, he turned and passed through the shadows towards the rest of the house. He had seen more than his fair share in that headspace.

It was always the same thing, wasn’t it? People believing in even the Bogeyman because what already inhabited their house was far far worse.

The Asshole Cousin, a recurring figure in the dream, slumbered away in a bed that was about three times the size of Mo Xuanyu’s. Outside of the skewed reality of the dream, Wei Wuxian finally got a good look at him. The teen was drooling in his sleep, way too expensive pyjamas straining against the rolls of fat. The Dreamsand above his head wove in the distinct shapes of two young beautiful women, curling about in a manner that was oh so distinctive in the dreams of young males.

He scoffed.

“ _Teenagers_.”

He drifted around the boy’s room, sniffing. Barely any fear lay in the room - this child got whatever he wanted when he wanted. There was nothing truly permanent, nothing undesirable, in his life, for him to be afraid. Even the waft of exams was barely any sort of anxiety - digging a bit deeper came the reassuring barricade of money to get admittance if the marks didn’t meet it and Wei Wuxian outwardly scoffed.

Same old, same old.

Well, not for long - he might be out of practice but there were definitely things he could do to change that. He thought for a moment, before a kind of dumb, kind of curious idea struck him. Circling the bed, he eyed the golden shapes and grinned, reaching out to poke at it with a delicate nail. Almost immediately, the sand turned black, the spot leaking out like spilled ink, the touch of fear easily corrupting the weak subconscious. The boy immediately frowned, twisting in place and throwing about his blankets, as the dream fell apart.

Actually fell apart.

Wei Wuxian pouted as the sand became distorted and unformed, nowhere near a proper Night Mare. Ah well, it was only attempt one. Satisfied with his work, he hunted about for the Master bedroom and repeated. The father’s dream similarly fell apart.

The mother’s, however . . . he grinned as it coagulated slightly, the sight of a cantering body within.

“Come on, come on, Mama’s here,” he crooned, curling his hands comfortingly through the sand, “look at you~”

The sand roiled and spat, dancing about and lunging out to curl around his neck. He ran a gentle hand over it, found contact with a solid body and pulled it up in front of him.

“Well, aren’t you just the prettiest little Night Mare?” he coddled and the small horse whinnied happily, nuzzling into his hands. “Go on - have your fun.” He let it go to begin cantering recklessly over Madam Mo’s subconscious, before moving the window. It was early enough for the sun to still be absent, but the moon to be nowhere in sight. Excellent.

He drifted out the window, floating up to perch on the roof. Arms spread out, he called over the breeze, whistle softly crossing the city.

(He missed Chenqing)

Dancing through the night came a whole herd of Night Mares, spread out across the country he’d appeared within. They were shy, watching him but not coming closer, tension thick.

(It hadn’t been the Guardians who struck the final blow, but his own creations, turning on their terrified Master and dragging him down to be forgotten)

“It’s okay,” he reassured them, “I’m back. I’m here and I don’t care about any of that. You all know that.”

One pushed out from the circling crowd, trotting through the air to come to his side. He laughed, running fingers over the flank and prodding the nose.

“Well, hello. Aren’t you beautiful?”

The Night Mare snorted, happy and pushing for praise. All at once, the others swarmed down, circling him, stamping their feet impatiently, pushing each other aside to get close enough for a pat, all very excited.

If there was one thing he always knew, it was fear.

And monsters always had the same fear.

(Fear of being alone. Fear of no more kind words. Fear of being abandoned by the one Spirit that had never minded

He would know.)

“You silly things,” he laughed, affectionate, “I’d never blame you for what happened. Come on. Let’s have a bit of fun.”

Reigns of shadow emerged, running from his hands to the first Night Mare to approach him, forming around its head. It stomped a hoof eagerly, as he swung onto its back, taking a moment to simply enjoy being astride one of his Mares for the first time in 1300 years.

“Go, go!” he urged, and the creature needed no further encouragement. It surged forward with a call, the others swarming around it. He laughed, high and giddy, as they rode across the roof tops, dancing and flying through the night, his hair whipping with the wind as he pressed low, going as fast possible between the buildings. For fun and curiosity’s sake, he waited for a moment as the urban sprawl lightened, sitting back up and calling on his power. He let go of the reigns as they moved through a small, dark street of townhouses, carefully positioning both hands. A small tiny little arrowhead formed before him as he drew back an arm in imitation of a bow. With a gleeful cry, he released it, laughing his head off as the struck car’s alarm immediately sounded off.

The Night Mares shrieked with him, echoes of their presences abounding through his being, as the darkness danced and twirled around them.

He held up a hand, feeling it catch the wind, and another laugh came out, long and loud.

Ah~

It felt good to be back.

He alighted back down on Mo Xuanyu’s windowsill just as the sun began to rise, motioning for his Mares to run through the shadows and back down into the Under Realm before the sun reached them. Giddy from the ride and elated at the thought of people being there to _meet_ him when he went home, he coasted in and waited.

He didn’t have to wait too long.

Madam Mo finally screamed, the nightmare building enough power to wrench her awake and Mo Xuanyu startled up as the sound echoed through the house, tense and wide-eyed.

He blinked up at the floating man.

“So . . . I wasn’t high?”

“Not in the slightest,” another scream rang out through the house and he couldn’t stifle the snort, shoulders shaking with laughter. Mo Xuanyu glanced between his door and the chuckling Spirit.

“. . . What did you do?”

“Just gave her a cute little Night Mare,” he grinned, “these sorts of people don’t tend to get them all too often.”

Mo Xuanyu paled slightly, “. . . Damn.”

“Thanks. You wanna get out before they come looking?”

“Please.”

Mo Xuanyu shrugged on shoes and a jumper, but jumped as Wei Wuxian lightly caught the back of his shirt and carried him straight out the open window. He yelped, scrabbling for a better grip as Wei Wuxian drifted down, laughing all the while, careful not to let go until Mo Xuanyu’s feet were well and truly on the ground. Not soon enough, as a loud bash sounded from the room above, a woman’s screeching voice echoing behind them.

“She always takes it out on me, whenever she gets worked up.” Mo Xuanyu spoke under some silent compulsion, “I think she does it to blow off steam.”

Wei Wuxian snickered.

“Then let’s leave her to find something else to take it out on. Come on, I want to explore.”He took Mo Xuanyu’s hand in his and skipped off.

The small flashes he’d peeked at hadn’t done the world justice - bright lights, soaring buildings, more people than he could ever remember. It was so much more _alive_ than the Dark Ages had been.

“So where are we going?” he asked the mortal walking beside him, still in the process of buttoning up the coat over his faded t-shirt. Mo Xuanyu hesitated.

“I don’t know? I normally head to the park. It’s just down a few blocks.”

“That sounds good!” he coasted back into the air and Mo Xuanyu glanced around, nervous.

“Aren’t you worried about freaking them out?”

“Hm? Oh nah, it’s fine.” He drifted down, right in the way of a walking random. Before Mo Xuanyu could call out a warning, the woman passed straight through him, completely unaware save for perhaps a slight chill running down her spine. Mo Xuanyu glanced between them, confused.

“See, one big thing to understand,” Wei Wuxian continued on, and Mo Xuanyu hurried to keep up, “is that _belief_ is super important for us. If you guys don’t believe, we won’t be seen. Those of us who are widely believed in are more substantial - anyone can see them. But as for little old me, well, I can only be seen by believers.”

“Is that what I am? Turn right here.”

“Yep!” Wei Wuxian coasted sideways, and idly flicked the shadows. A cat walking along the wall jumped up and hissed, startling the nearby pedestrians. Mo Xuanyu looked terribly unimpressed, cute little thing he was.

Wei Wuxian cooed, reaching out to pat his head. “You’re so cute, A-Yu.”

Mo Xuanyu rolled his eyes, but he didn’t move away. In fact, he was flushing, a bright pleased pink tinge to his cheeks and Wei Wuxian immediately wanted full custody.

After a bit further, Mo Xuanyu pointed out the small walled park and Wei Wuxian laughed, dancing through the air to land on one of the swings, moving back and forth rather recklessly.

“So, if someone walks past, are they just going to see a random swing moving all on its own?” Mo Xuanyu asked, curious, coming up beside him to watch. Wei Wuxian nodded.

“But I can tell when people are looking - I won’t let anyone see you talking with a haunted swing!”

“It’s not like they don’t already think I’m mad.” Mo Xuanyu mumbled under his breath and Wei Wuxian paused.

“Everyone worth knowing is a little mad,” he decided, “the ones you have to be careful of are the ones who cling to order too much - clearly there’s something going on there that has nothing to do with you, but you’ll get the earful anyway.”

“Mm,” Mo Xuanyu sat on the second swing, “never mind me. You mentioned the Easter Bunny? He’s a real thing?”

“Oh he’s real all right,” Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, thinking of his terribly irritable bro- . . . colleague, “real stuffy, real competitive and _really_ short tempered.”

Mo Xuanyu didn’t seem to find that as funny as he did, but he was, admittedly, processing some very big concepts right now.

“What about others? Like, Santa Claus, and the Tooth Fairy and-?”

“Real, real, all real,” he interrupted cheerfully, “All the Winter Spirits hang out in the North Pole - the Tooth Fairy has his whole palace.”

“That’s insane.”

“I know right? Who needs an entire continent, _honestly.”_

“What about you?” Mo Xuanyu blinked, “Where do you live?”

Wei Wuxian winked, finger to his lips, and then pointed down.

“Like, under ground?”

“Yep! Mortals can’t visit it though - something about how the infinite layers of realities all combined into a single in-cohesive domain becomes enough to drive a regular individual mad at first sight, or something.”

“. . . Oh.” Mo Xuanyu blinked at him, before turning his face to the ground, “So . . . what now?”

Wei Wuxian hummed, still idling swinging back and forth. One swing went too high, so he kept floating up, riding the swing in a perfect loop around the metal frame.

“Dunno,” He idly scratched his nose, “I don’t really have much to do up here. I came because you called, but it’s not like anyone else is.”

“Really?” Mo Xuanyu arched an eyebrow, “Why not? Can’t imagine I’m the only person like this in the whole world.”

Wei Wuxian paused in his swinging, turning to blink at the mortal, “What do you mean?”

“The world’s kind of shitty, don’t you know?” Mo Xuanyu snorted. “You’d have to have been living under a rock not to get that.”

“Well, that’s what being trapped underground for 1300 years sort of does.”

Mo Xuanyu choked. “I’m sorry?”

Wei Wuxian floated up, sitting atop the swing’s frame, “You heard me.”

“1300 years?”

“Yep.”

“How _old_ are you?”

“Beats me. The Dark Ages were a bad time for keeping records, and I was around even before I became the Bogeyman.”

His believer tilted his head, neck craned up to squint at him. However, before he could speak one of the probably multiple questions on his mind, a call had them both looking towards the entry to the park.

“Mo Xuanyu!”

“Aw, fuck this shit.” Mo Xuanyu groaned, burying his face in his hands. Wei Wuxian tilted his head up, watching with no shortage of interest as the teen from earlier came up into the park, bags under his eyes.

“He knows where to find you, huh?”

“Ziyuan,” Mo Xuanyu ignored Wei Wuxian in favour of his cousin, tone tepid, “can I help you?”

About five other teens were following behind this cousin, all grinning in anticipation and Mo Xuanyu’s grip tightened around the swing’s chains. Wei Wuxian kept idly swinging his legs.

“Hey, you guys are all teens, right?” he called cheerily, “Isn’t A-Yu like, decently your elder?”

None of them so much as twitched, as they all methodically encircled the resigned twenty-one-year-old, most chuckling. Duly impressed that Mo Xuanyu hadn’t so much as twitched a finger in his direction, he hummed, lightly tipped backwards off the top of the swing and slid down onto the second one.

They all screamed as the seemingly spare swing suddenly jumped for no reason, chains rattling before it began wafting back and forth.

Mo Ziyuan’s scream was the loudest, as he stumbled back, agape. He glanced between the swing and his cousin, flabby jowls wobbling.

“You . . . what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”Mo Xuanyu was staring at him and he winked in response, standing up properly and swinging all the more intently.

“Mo Xuanyu!” His cousin shrieked, “Stop it! Stop it now, or I’m telling Mama!”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Who else would it be?!” one of the other boys yelped as the swing almost hit him as it went backwards, “Freak!!”

Mo Xuanyu glanced over at him questioningly. Wei Wuxian made a show of thinking it over, even though there was already plenty fear wafting around them, before he gestured obligingly.

“. . . The Bogeyman?”

They all stared at Mo Xuanyu, faces a distinct mix of ‘are you serious?’. And were thus all staring at him as he suddenly screamed, falling back off the swing in fright. They all jumped, leaping in the air and looking behind.

The Night Mares standing at their backs all snorted and Wei Wuxian winked, shadows pulling at his features to make them all too sharp and haunting.

“Boo.”

His Mares brayed, flaring their manes and stamping their hooves and the pack of bullies all screamed in unison, sprinting out of the park at breakneck speed (perhaps even a new record for that Mo Ziyuan considering how much he was puffing). Wei Wuxian’s laugh trailed them, likely to appear in their dreams that night, a cackle that faded out of existence the further they got from the park.

Mo Xuanyu was still on the ground.

“I thought you said they couldn’t see you!!”

“Well, no, normally they can’t,” he offered out his hand and pulled his believer off the ground, “but I’m a little special. Most Spirits can only be seen by believers - but Fear’s unique in how it sort of boosts a mortal’s ability to perceive faces out of nothing. Sort of thins the line between the Mortal and the Spirit Worlds.”

“So what?” Mo Xuanyu extended a slightly nervous hand towards the Mare, relaxing a bit as it nudged in obligingly, “When people are scared they can see Spirits?”

“Yep! Well, specifically bits of the Spirit World that pertain to Fear. Like me!”

“Okay, so that’s absolutely horrifying.” Mo Xuanyu let out a faint huff. “Aren’t you worried he’s going to go shout it from the rooftops?”

“Nah, he won’t,” Wei Wuxian grinned, lightly kicking back up into the air, lazily going around the pair, “the flip side of this cheat is that it doesn’t stick. Seeing through belief will last, but glimpsing through fear tends to be written off as a bad dream.”

“A bad dream, huh?” Mo Xuanyu just flopped down, cross legged, “Is that what you are?”

“I could be,” He settled down, side saddle across the Night Mare, “not really sure though.”

“You don’t know?”

“A-Yu, I’m probably more than two thousand years old, you think I have a single clue about how I exist?“

“You don’t know how you came to, I dunno, ‘be’?”

“Nope!”

“Can you die?”

“Functionally.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We exist to serve a purpose,” he danced black sand around his fingers, “I’m the Master of Fear, so I have to manage the Fear in the world.”

“So . . . why are you still here?”

He blinked.

“Where else would I go?”Mo Xuanyu frowned, “Well, if you have to ‘manage the fear in the world’, wouldn’t that leave your schedule pretty tight? Or is it strictly by ‘believer contract’ or whatever _this_ is?”

He waggled his finger between them for emphasis and Wei Wuxian just kept floating.

It was meant to be a peek. Just a glimpse of the modern world, a test of his power and then he’d return to the safe unchanging humdrum of his realm. After all, he’d been banished from every realm except the mortal one, so it wasn’t like he could drop in to reconnect with any Spirits who might not hate him still.

Just a peek.

It had been his own personal rule in exchange for rising to the surface

(Well, he’d never been good at rules - his own least of all.)

He was careful. Very very careful. The sort of careful that would have made Old Man Lan choke in disbelief. He avoided the full moon religiously, and only really came out when the moon was in its smaller phases. Avoided the favourite haunts of the less powerful Spirits - the ones who weren’t as confined as the Guardians but would still report his appearance without a second thought. Once he carefully established those boundaries for himself, he began playing with the world once more.

It was vaguely alarming to find the state of Fear in such a warped tangle - he supposed losing its Spirit had probably left it fairly unattended. The first month or so was spent just trying to unknot the terrible snarl. He fed on the panic whipped up by the media, the daily anxieties of the average person, the childish fears of the youngest. He was very careful only to draw it to himself, and not send any back. There was no point in removing a person’s fear, only to return something far more potent to them. He attended to the minor things, soothing their stresses, claiming the irrational snarls in relationships, taking the bite away from a family huddled around a hospital bed. And then, he attended to the major issues, easing the collective panic following a major earthquake, holding shoulders firm as the amount of rainwater continued to dry up and called away the raw panic of children when their parents were taken away by bad men. Over and over again, he danced through the world, seeking out those with too much fear for their bodies to handle.

(He tried not to get irritated that it was always the same people - that the places he visited were consistent. That Fear was still overwhelming but felt so much more only by some).

And, slowly but steadily, he began to inject a little bit back.

He returned the little things, the fear a child should have of tall cliffs when the parents weren’t nearby. He boosted a young woman’s fear of a man far too close to her drink. He amusedly raised the fear of a family who were planning a purchase they could not afford in the long run. He less amusedly strengthened the fears of a man, reminding him of his family as he glared at the poker table.

He dove back and forth into dreams, far too recklessly. But it was so rewarding to help little ones, fully grown, but rendered into small crying children by society, face their Night Mares. With each success, he could step out, seeing their faces aglow with courage and accompanied by a new Mare to take back down to his now lively domain.

No one ever saw him. No one ever heard him. No one believed in a Bogeyman who cared, but he was used to that.

He never ran into the Guardians. Honestly he didn’t even run into any Spirits.

The people who felt enough fear to require his physical presence had never had a good Christmas. Those individuals who he felt the need to intervene with had never bothered with Easter egg hunts. They didn’t mark the end of Summer Solstice with a huge celebration of fire and light, didn’t spend all October creating spooky costumes to scare their neighbours with.

Probably never had someone to call their Valentine.

(He brushed that last one away as quickly as he could)

When he wasn’t working, he was spending time with A-Yu. The first thing he did was help him out of that house, hovering over his shoulder as he looked for work online, might have possibly given the real estate agents a nasty dream of what would happen if he didn’t accommodate Mo Xuanyu’s finances, as well as one to the rest of the Mo family in case they tried to interfere. He supposed he should be mildly concerned that his only believer didn’t seem to have any friends other than a technically exiled Spirit with way too much time on his hands, but, hey, A-Yu didn’t seem to mind things going his way for once, so who was he to judge?

It all came to an abrupt end in one single night.

He had been strolling around at twilight, idly tossing up what to do with his night, when, for the first time in almost six months, he sensed Spirits.

They weren’t familiar, weren’t any he might have recognised, but they were powerful and closing in.

Not on him though.

Curiosity had always been his weakness, so he felt no shame in lurking in the shadows, waiting for the sun to set and the people to wander home, before he called a Night Mare and began idly cantering around the city, trying to track them down.

Their presences had been fluctuating all evening, and while he was pretty sure there was two, he couldn’t be certain from how much they were running all over the place.

A few of his eyes knew they’d come originally to track down some vicious Night Mares, which he might have ordinarily turned a blind eye too, but this was a bit out of hand. Surely they weren’t struggling in that endeavour?

One of his Mares suddenly reared back in alarm, and he locked on.

In the distance, on the outskirts of the town, a bright blue flash lit up the whole night sky.

It was followed by another two in quick concession, then by an unearthly scream that no single Mortal could hear but had every single one of his Mares startling back in response.

Oh. That couldn’t be good.

A Night Mare came up beside him as he extended a hand.

“Did you see what it was?”

The Mare just shook their head, confused and distressed and he frowned, running a soothing hand along its neck.

“Well then. Let’s get a closer look.”

It looked vaguely upset about that and he just laughed, swinging himself up and urging it to canter its way across the sky, heading towards the growing disturbance. The Night Mare grew more and more upset about the whole thing, to the point that, only a few blocks away, Wei Wuxian dismounted and soothed it as best he could. 

“Go find the others,” he requested instead, and it nodded gratefully, as another blue flash painted the night sky. He watched as it wheeled away, cascading into the under realm in a shower of black sand. Alone now, Wei Wuxian coasted through the sky, leaving behind the city for a small area of parkland, hidden away by small hills and centred around a large frozen pond.

Huh.

He swore this country was currently in Spring.

“It’s getting away!”

He jumped, looking up and blinking. Two Spirits were hovering high above him, and he huffed at the unforgettable mourning white of the Lan family prominant across each of their clothes. He danced back to watch atop branches, as the two flew down, completely passing him by in their pursuit of . . . of . . . of a something.

Wei Wuxian wrinkled his nose.

Okay. That was a little weird.

He definitely recognised some of the black sand (and he felt a small vein of irritation to identify the theft of his dominion), but the rest was bizarre, an odd mix of golden clockwork and ethereal energy creating what appeared to be a very very irritated hand, that for all intents and purposes, was attempting to either run away or lead the two Spirits straight into the ground. 

“Jingyi, strengthen the barrier!” one of them called, and Wei Wuxian watched him curiously, noting the hooked staff he was clutching, like an immense shepherd’s cane. The other nodded, gliding higher and throwing out his hands. The hand wailed in an insulting perversion of mechanical whirring and Night Mare braying, but the pulsing line circling the pond just solidified, firmly entrapping the hand within. The hand went to fly up, but the first one was waiting. His staff lit up and icy blue light filled the area (well, that answered _that_ question).

Wei Wuxian leant forward, intrigued, as the entire hand was encased in a very efficient layer of ice, sending it cascading it down onto the frozen surface. It cracked slightly, already beginning to break loose, but the boy only had to place a foot down and the whole area completely froze over.

“Did you get it, Sizhui?” the other groaned, floating down wearily, with the sort of long-standing unwillingness that would have horrified Old Man Lan, and honestly delighted Wei Wuxian. Who’d have thought the Lan family only needed 1300 years to finally get someone with a personality?

Sizhui pulled down his hood, shaking free ice white hair as he crouched down on the ice, poking at the hand with his glowing staff. “I believe so. We should get this to the North Pole as quickly as possible.”

“I’ve got a sack.”

Oh no, that wouldn’t do. Wei Wuxian wouldn’t get his answers.

Knowing what a dumb idea it was, but gleefully pursuing his curiosity, he cleared his throat.

They both jumped a foot.

“Might I take this impromptu ice rink as your doing, Young Master?” he called cheerfully, up high on his branch. Jingyi yelped, darting backwards, as Sizhui just straightened, turning to look up at him with wide eyes.

Without waiting for them to reply, he calmly leapt off, drifting down easily to land on the edge of the pond’s bank, the icy surface less than a hand away and completely frozen solid.

“Whatcha got there?”

“Got . . .? Oh, um, we’re not quite sure . . .” he suddenly straightened up, properly facing Wei Wuxian and bowing deeply. “This one is Lan Sizhui. This is my cousin, Lan Jingyi. Might we know your name?”

Wei Wuxian’s aura was barely a crumb of what it had been in his prime, but this kid could already tell he was an elder? Clever boy.

“. . . Mo Xuanyu, I’m just a local Spirit,” he offered cheerfully, “If you guys are Lan, aren’t you meant to all be up North?”

“I wish,” Jingyi grumbled, recollecting himself as Sizhui shot him a quick look.

He gave them both a quick inspection. Lan Jingyi was wearing the more standard plain white pants, though he’d taken a bomber jacket threaded with ice and snow that would have had Old Man Lan crying himself to sleep. The dark hair and eyes, the porcelain skin, all screamed of a deep connection to the Moon - so likely this Spirit had some sort of tie to the more cyclical nature of Winter. His companion instead screamed Winter itself - white hair, faintly blue lips and purple eyes gave him the oddest look of constantly being cold, an impression not helped by the thick hoodie he’d wrapped himself in.

Sizhui just turned back, their silent conversation complete.

“There was a reported disturbance - we were sent to check it out and deal with it.” He explained. “We are sorry for intruding on your domain without permission.”

Ah, so these were little Guardians-In-Training. No surprises considering their lineage.

“No need to apologise,” he waved away the bow easily, “it’s not like I’m the right person to deal with something like this. As always, the Council makes life for the rest of us infinitely easier.”

Still though . . .

“But even so, is it really just the two of you?” he continued, absently drifting over towards the frozen thing, the tips of his hair swaying in an icy breeze, “Thought you would have had a senior helping out with something this spiteful.”

“We didn’t know it was going to be so bad,” Sizhui sighed, “there were sightings of Night Mares. We were able to subdue them easily enough, but then this thing just suddenly showed up . . .” he shook his head, “it was all we could to chase it out of the town.”

(Well, that explained their frantic criss crossing over the town all evening)

“Odd indeed,” Wei Wuxian had drifted close enough to toe at the thing and the coils of a vicious Night Mare within writhed in response. He frowned.

“What did you do?” Jingyi asked suspiciously, glancing between him and the hand. Wei Wuxian blinked and then waggled his toes right in the younger Spirit’s face.

“I toed it. Now my toes are cold.”

“Sorry . . .” Sizhui blushed, fiddling with his staff. Jingyi sniffed.

“Well, we might as well get it back. Maybe Hanguang-Jun will know what it is.” He reached into his white jacket and Wei Wuxian blinked, before startling at the snow globe he pulled out.

“Kid, _don’t-!”_

“North Pole,” Jingyi shook it and chucked it through the air.

The hand exploded in anger as the portal opened before them, dark energy bursting free as soon as the icy seal shattered.

Sizhui was too slow, hands still frozen on his staff as it lunged at him, targeting the Spirit it felt most aggrieved by. Wei Wuxian turned and immediately kicked Jingyi right into Sizhui’s front. The hand contacted with the back of his jacket and it burst into purifying flames, startling away the hand as the Spirit yelped, ripping it off.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Jingyi rounded on him, outraged. Sizhui caught him.

“No . . . look!”

The hand was quivering as the moon fire burnt at it, trying to free itself.

“Do you want an invitation, little Winter Spirit?” Wei Wuxian called them back to focus and the youth startled back into action, immediately twirling his staff and directing it forward. A biting wind filled the whole area, frost beginning to grow back over the hand. All the meanwhile, the portal stayed open, the power beyond agitating the already ticked off hand.

(And then the energy _surged_.)

The two Spirits were blasted back as black sand exploded out from the clockwork, striking out at everything and anything, pure unfiltered _rage_ emanating around them. Wei Wuxian cursed under his breath as those sinister shards headed straight for the kids, leaping directly in front of the pair, and calling his power, instinct driving him. The shadows coalesced into an immense scythe and he deflected the attacking power in a few crisp swings, twirling the blade around his neck to slice it down right on the hand.

(He stared almost dumbly at the weapon. He hadn’t wielded it in 1300 years, and he felt a degree of discomfort at how naturally the immense weapon had returned to his grip.)

A distinct cracking sound echoed over the clearing as the tip of the blade broke through and parts of the clockwork splintered. The maddened power fled in a rush and the now inanimate mechanical hand hit the icy pond with a very broken clunk.

“What . . . the actual fuck . . . just happened?” Jingyi exhaled, rigid in the air. Wei Wuxian frowned, dispersing his scythe and prodding the hand with his foot.

“It’s the sort of clockwork made by the people on the moon - but that Night Mare was bound to it. This thing is essentially built out of pure energy, and the North Pole is one of the Earth’s most powerful epicentres of such - of course opening a link resulted in a sudden influx of energy and agitated the hand.”

“Bound to it . . .” Sizhui pressed a finger to his chin, frowning immensely, “but . . . I thought only the Bogeyman could do such thing.”

Jingyi squeaked, “You . . . you don’t mean. . .?”

“The Bogeyman went down in the Dark Ages,” Wei Wuxian reminded him cheerfully, and Jingyi nodded fervently, “and it’s not that he’s the only one who can do it - it’s that he was the only Spirit capable of creating Night Mares without a mortal’s existing fear and thus they were always loyal to him. But people have plenty of Night Mares on their own. Binding them is just like binding Dreamsand.”

“You can bind Dreamsand?” Jingyi blinked in surprise and Wei Wuxian snickered.

“You don’t know that? Aren’t you training under the Guardians, which, you know, includes the Sandman?”

“You-! What do you know?!”

“More than you apparently~”

“Senior Mo is indeed very knowledgeable,” Sizhui intervened and Wei Wuxian beamed at him. Polite, respectful, diplomatic and bearing immense power - just who had raised such a promising trainee?

“What are you the Spirit of?” Jingyi suddenly asked, frowning and Wei Wuxian’s brain ground to a halt.

“Ah. Well, you see-” he cut himself off suddenly, as a very _very_ familiar aura suddenly began emitting from the still open portal. Both the trainees immediately turned to it, beaming in relief.

“Hanguang-Jun!”

Wei Wuxian didn’t waste a breath. The minute their backs were turned, he dissolved away into the shadows and booked it down to the Under Realm. He could only hope that the portal had distorted the world enough that the Guardian of Light hadn’t been able to spy him through it. 

_If he has, well, there goes my freedom._

His Night Mares were waiting for him, anxious, as he floated over to his globe, perching atop it and pulling out what his scythe had drawn out from the hand. The Night Mare was fractured and splintered, and far from being vicious entity, it seemed suddenly passive and tame in his hands. He frowned, running calming hands over it, cajoling it, soothing it. His herd billowed around him, each one as curious as to this new addition as he was.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered softly, “do you know what happened?”

More frightened than a spooked animal, the Night Mare’s awareness slowly surfaced under his hands, seeking their presence. The response had him confused.

Someone had bound a Night Mare . . . alongside a Will? What the fuck? It certainly explained the energy he had detected but What the _Actual Fuck_?

“Someone’s out here trying to make devil hands?” he said aloud, stunned. His confusion was echoed by the group. He had known that what had been animating the clockwork had been more powerful than a single Night Mare, but he had thought the Night Mare itself had been most of the agitation. Yet now it was so frightened and cowering up against his side. It had been trapped in there with something truly feral and vicious. He didn’t think anything but Spirits could embody such raw emotions. 

Odd.

Very very odd.

But he had another matter to deal with. Leaving the poor thing, now barely larger than his fist, curled up in his lap, he held out a hand and called his scythe.

He was still mildly amazed that it formed in his fingers, just as mighty and elegant as the first time he gathered it. It seemed Impossible. The last time he’d wielded it, he’d sworn never to do so again in his grief. Even now, he could feel his whole realm trembling, a mirror to his shock, but unique in its ecstasy as the immense presence pressed up against his consciousness, trying to get a better look.

Trapped down here, without any believers, he’d long given up on being reunited with the weapon.

(Surely He had vanished?)

Gently, he released the blade, allowing it to hover before him, pulsing with a strong heart beat, all the Mares gathering around it in fascination.

He swallowed.

“. . . Wen Ning?”

The scythe pulsed. Every single Night Mare scattered as a deep wrenching roar of anger erupted from the blade, pulsing with energy and hurling the whole dominium into shock. Calm amidst the panic, Wei Wuxian frowned.

No.

That was too violent.

“Wen Ning!” he called, a bit more firm, but the weapon only panicked more, anger leeching from it like blood from an open wound. Getting properly to his feet, he held out a hand. His power gathered before him and he fed it directly into the scythe, one hand out to hold back the waves of power it was emitting in response. He bared his teeth and called one more time.

“WEN QIONGLIN!”

The scythe exploded into black sand, swirling and contorting before him. He gasped as his power was abruptly cut off, snapping back to him, the world spinning. As he crumpled off the globe, the last vision he saw was the sand coagulating into the shape of a familiar man.

“Young Master? Young Master?”

The familiar voice called him to wake and he could have wept.

“Aiyah, Wen Ning. I’m not really that young anymore.”

“. . . I know.”

Wei Wuxian slowly blinked his eyes open. He was laid out in his small bed, blankets wrapped snugly around him. And sitting at his side, leaning over with a hand on his forehead, was Wen Ning.

He was still wearing the same black cape, had the same familiar skull mask pushed atop his hair. The same bone white face, marred only by the back veins pushing up his neck.

“Wen Ning . . .” he repeated, wondrous, slowly sitting up. The Spirit of Death smiled, tremulous and relieved in equal measure.

“I’m glad you’re awake - your Mares were very worried. I checked your power network, and it’s stable enough. You expended a lot of energy to regather me, so please refrain-”

Unable to hold back anymore, Wei Wuxian threw himself forward and wrapped his arms tightly around his best friend, tears building.

“I’m so sorry!” he wept, arms tightening around the frozen spirit, “I said so many terrible things to you! It wasn’t your fault! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

A moment later, arms were wrapping around him in return.

“I’m so happy,” Wen Ning’s voice was hushed, fervent, “They told me you were gone. That you wouldn’t ever come back. That you were . . . you were d-d-dead.”

“I might as well have been,” he drew back and cradled the face of his best friend, “but you! I thought - without me - you would have vanished! I thought - _I thought_ -!”

“I don’t understand it either,” Wen Ning muttered, a bit ashamed, “I remembered feeling frozen, for a very long time. But it wasn’t like when I’m in the scythe - everything was so fuzzy and nonsensical, I couldn’t tell where or what was happening. It was like I’d been trapped.”

Wei Wuxian’s hands tightened into fists, “I want to be mad. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Wen Ning blinked and looked like he was about to burst into tears.

(Ah, he’d been so young when he became a Spirit. Sometimes, Wei Wuxian forgot)

“S-So, how did you come back?” he sniffled, wiping at his nose. Wen Ning blinked.

“I heard you calling. So I came.”

Such a simple answer. Wei Wuxian beamed and just moved his arms back around for another hug.

“Aiyah, I missed you so much!”

Wen Ning just smiled that sweet little smile that always seemed so out of place on Death’s face, but Wei Wuxian adored.

“Ah! And the Under Realm missed you too! They were really happy to see you again!”

That surprised him, eyes widening as he turned and gently pressed his palm against the side of the wall. The presence around them swirled in joyous response, gathering and pressing back. Wen Ning blinked, before beaming and resting his forehead against the wall.

“I’m sorry to have worried you.”

Wei Wuxian watched it, eyes crinkling and smile gentle. Unfortunately, circumstances became too present to ignore, especially now with his precious Wen Ning sentient.

“Wen Ning . . . that hand, did you pick up anything about it?”

“The one from the lake?” Wen Ning thought for a moment. “Sort of. The Night Mare was more my focus.”

He blinked.

“So . . . it wasn’t a dead mortal.”

“Not at all,” Wen Ning dropped his head to the side, wide eyed, “I would have been to tell.”

“So it’s something not bound by Death . . . then it has to be a Spirit.” He just frowned harder, finger pressing into his temple, “But then how could a Spirit could have left behind a Will? Admittedly, only a Spirit could have created so agitated . . .”

“I don’t think it was a Spirit, either.”

He blinked and turned. Wen Ning shuffled, “Or at least, it wasn’t whole . . . it felt broken. Lashing out. Lost. That’s what I felt when I collided with it.”

“A Lost Spirit?” he lightly scratched his finger against his nose, “That could work. We should investigate as soon as possible - I don’t like the idea of something like that running away and attacking my Night Mares.”

“We could return to the lake,” Wen Ning offered, “see if we can find traces of the hand.”

Wei Wuxian nodded and then, unwilling to think on the matter anymore and still riding a delighted high, he tackled his best friend with another hug.

“I don’t see why you’re so worked up,” unlike his old friend, Mo Xuanyu was very unsympathetic to his issues, “what’s the difference between a Will and a Night Mare anyway?”

“Night Mares are the embodiment of mortal fears - Wills are sort of like if you crammed a single emotion into one spot and then trapped it - less physical, more diverse in sentiment. This one was a Will of Rage.”

The two were sitting in a fast food restaurant, tucked away in a private booth so that nobody thought Mo Xuanyu was too crazy for talking to thin air. Mo Xuanyu simply arched an eyebrow and slurped on his milkshake.

“Meaning?”  
Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, “Urgh, the _crude_ definition is what you mortals call ‘ghosts’, though you treat them with wildly inaccurate information.”

“So?”

“ _So_ ,” he threw his hair over his shoulder dramatically, “it shouldn’t have been that powerful. Only Spirits can embody that level of emotion. However, we Spirits vanish entirely when we die. In other words, something very funky was up.”

“I see,” Mo Xuanyu made no move to pretend he saw anything, “then if it’s so weird, why did you run the fuck away?”

“I did not _run away._ ”

“You ran away like a little bitch, don’t even try to deny it,” Mo Xuanyu grinned at him and he just stuck out his tongue in retaliation. His believer rolled his eyes, before hesitating, “You said . . . you ran into Spirits last night.”

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian winced, dropping his chin onto the table, “I did.”

“. . . Is it bad?”

“It’s not great,” he admitted, “they weren’t any of the Guardians, nor their stooges, but they _were_ Lan trainees. Not to mention, right at the end, Lan Zhan showed up.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded, squinting in thought, “And he is . . .?”

“The Guardian of Light. Most people call him Hanguang-Jun. He’s formally in charge of all ‘Winter Celebrations of Light’, but he also watches over things like Diwali and the Chinese Lantern Festival so most people associate him more with the New Year.”

“And if he sees you, that would be bad?” Mo Xuanyu prodded. Wei Wuxian bobbed his head.

“To put it lightly.”

“Why?”

“He _hates_ me!” Wei Wuxian moaned, flinging himself over the table, and prompting Mo Xuanyu to snatch his fries to safety. “Back in the day, every time he saw me, he always looked like he wanted to disintegrate me with his gaze alone. If he gets so much as a _whiff_ that I’ve gotten free, he’ll come to lock me up again, I just know it!”  
“Un-huh.”

“And you know what sucks most?” he continued, pouting, “Any of the others would’ve been fine - most of them are stuck up dicks, I don’t care if they hate me, but I always _wanted_ Lan Zhan to like me. His first impression left me pretty gobsmacked, you know? He’s definitely the prettiest person in the world, but he’s uptight as fuck! You know, when we first met, I spent _hours_ trying to piss him off, just so he’d crack something other than ‘stone monotone’.”

“Mm,” Mo Xuanyu arched an eyebrow, “you were that desperate to have your crush pay attention to you?”

Wei Wuxian blinked, “What crush?”

“Your crush. People don’t call another person ‘the prettiest in the world’ just because they’re really good friends.”

“Whose crush? I don’t have a crush. You’re clearly talking nonsense. Maybe you have a crush.” Wei Wuxian frowned, and Mo Xuanyu rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, okay. Just keep your, what, two millennia old pining out of my space. It’s gross.”

What a terrible, unfilial believer.

Mo Xuanyu winked at him and motioned for him to open his mouth so he could chuck in fries.

(Not entirely terrible believer.)

Said believer snickered as he sat back, pushing in the fries properly, matching his position.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” he prodded, tilting his head. Wei Wuxian swallowed and shrugged.

“I dunno - use my unfailingly good looks to distract him?”

This time, Mo Xuanyu laughed loudly, far too loudly for someone eating alone.

“Excuse me?”

They both looked up. A smiling, middle aged woman was standing above their table, eyes crinkled.

“I was just wondering where your parents are, young man.”

“I’m twenty-three,” Mo Xuanyu replied pointedly and Wei Wuxian beamed at how much eye contact he could make now, “I don’t need parents watching me, Madam.”

“Oh, of course, I didn’t mean it like that,” she smiled and Wei Wuxian absently floated up, circling her.

“Yeah, so what did you mean it like?” he asked, mocking, putting fingers behind her head and waggling them like bunny ears. Mo Xuanyu bit on his lip.

“I was just wondering who you were talking to.”

“The Bogeyman.”

She blinked, and in the moment Mo Xuanyu stood up and ditched the plastic tray. “Have a nice day, Madam."

She startled, turning to catch his sleeve and ran right into the stool Wei Wuxian had painstakingly nudged in her way and several people all glanced over as she fell on her face.

“Who wants to bet she had spoilt little kids in the building and didn’t want them seeing the crazy man talking to himself?” Wei Wuxian asked, floating easily alongside his believer as they left in the confusion. Mo Xuanyu sniggered, perfectly at ease with Wei Wuxian draping arms around his neck and proceeding to hover behind him like a cape, enjoying getting pulled along.

“Still I’m sort of surprised.” Mo Xuanyu mused, as they meandered their way through the crowd.

“Oh? Why?”

“Just that you were out and about last night,” Mo Xuanyu pointed to the sky, “I thought you said it was risky for you when the moon was full.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him.

“. . . ah, A-Yu, A-Yu, what did you just say?”

Mo Xuanyu stared at him, utterly unimpressed, “Did you forget? It’s the full moon right now.”

In response, Wei Wuxian just slowly slid his arms off Mo Xuanyu’s shoulders, steepling his fingers and pressing them up against his mouth.

Well.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, rereading mdzs for the millionth time: 'wwx was the Bogeyman of the cultivation world'  
> me: Idea  
> brain: isn't rise of the guardians an Easter movie?  
> me: IDEA  
> brain: there's LITERALLY a line where you mention EASTER  
> me: IDEA FOR CHRISTMAS
> 
> WWX: the Bogeyman/Pitch  
> LWJ: The New Year which I Made Up  
> LXC: Santa/North  
> JC: Easter Bunny/Bunnymund  
> JZX: Sandman  
> LSZ: Jack Frost
> 
> Also, full discloser, I was planning to try and update this daily as a countdown to Christmas, but I also just suffered through hat was most likely heat stroke so my will to write Plummeted.  
> But I will do my best!!
> 
> Thank you to all readers! I hope you enjoyed this crack!


	2. The Sandman gets to say One Word and its Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 days till Christmas!!

“So, is anyone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

Jin Zixuan appeared in his usual cascade of gold, Dreamsand wafting idly around him, his gaze pinched tighter than his waistcoat. He liked to think his temper wasn’t too out in the open, but he couldn’t stop the small bunches of sand from clumping into shaking fists, which was a bit revealing. His brother-in-law was hopping from one foot to the other by the Workshop’s huge hearth, shoulders up and arms tightly crossed over his chest, the grey ears curled in irritably.

“W-who cares?” Jiang Cheng shivered, still trying to defrost from the trip over, “We talk. We leave. I get to keep working.”

“A meeting hasn’t been called in almost four centuries.” Xiao Xingchen came next, his translucent rainbow wings rising and falling as he joined them on the balcony, overlooking the immense globe which monitored all the North’s believers. “I’m sure it’s important.”

“You know what’s important? Easter. In less than a month. What’s worth freezing my tail off up here when I could be back down in the Warrens?”

“Wow, working _one_ night a year. How on Earth do you cope?” Jin Zixuan set himself down, absently curling a sand form of the globe between his hands. He perched atop one of the wooden balustrades, legs folded and posture straight. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and the Sandman bitterly regretted telling A-Li he was fine to come alone. His brother-in-law was always so much more agreeable whenever she was around.

He glanced over to Xiao Xingchen, hoping the other would have a more helpful insight and then just sighed at the sight of the Tooth Fairy having been quickly surrounded by his entourage, each tiny fairy wearing the same rainbow feathered gowns as he did, although alone amongst their beaked cowls, only his covered up his eyes.

“Sector 3-Unit 230, handle Montreal, Sector 4-”

So. He was still in work mode.

(So nothing from him.)

He let out a vaguely irritated huff, sand puffing out like steam from his ears.

(Like his wife, he wished Song Zichen had come. Even if he wasn’t a Guardian, his presence, at least, could normally keep Xiao Xingchen’s head out of his teeth-filled clouds for more than three minutes.)

“Thank you all for coming so quickly,” they all straightened as Lan Xichen walked out from one of the main paths that led to his personal workshop, boots clicking. The twin swords hanging from his belt, the immense fur lined blue cloak sweeping the floor with each step, the absence of his normally so genial smile, all of it had them focusing, acknowledging their leader was serious here.

Jin Zixuan floated down to the ground, absently batting apart the question marks forming from his sand, “Where is Hanguang-Jun?”

“Wangji has been here the whole time,” Lan Xichen’s gaze slid past them and the slightest of smiles returned. They all turned. Sure enough, the Guardian of Light was sitting high above the overly big but completely necessary hearth, legs elegantly folded beneath him, drinking tea.

“It is nice to find you in good health, Lan Wangji,” Xiao Xingchen greeted politely.

He gave them all stony looks and they returned their attention to the more approachable of the pair.

The Big 5, all in one place, for the first time in almost four centuries.

(There used to be more, before A-Li retired, and Nie Mingjue faded without a worthy enough successor)

“I understand your time is important - but two of our trainees discovered something alarming last night. I was planning to handle it myself, but A-Yao sent me a message - it’s apparently something that we all need to know.”

That got their collective attention, and more than a few eyes glanced up through the opened section of the roof, the moon shining down upon them, bright and full despite the daylight. Lan Xichen turned.

“Come on out, you two. Tell them what you told me.”

There was a faint squeak from the walkway, which cut itself off abruptly as two Winter Spirits emerged. Jin Zixuan blinked. Oh, he knew these two.

As A-Ling’s counterpart, he had heard many a complaint about the Winter Solstice, Lan Jingyi, who was apparently well on the way to giving Elder Lan early onset cardiac trouble. The other was Jack Frost, Hanguang-Jun’s little protege, and the most likely Spirit to next become a Guardian, if the kid ever figured out _what_ he was meant to be the Guardian of.

“Go on,” Lan Xichen nodded encouragingly, and Lan Sizhui licked his lips, before pulling out a sack and carefully placing it before them all. A flick of his staff, and he hooked the sack off, revealing the clockwork hand contained within, the centre mechanisms completely bisected in a single strike.

“Whilst hunting a few stray Night Mares, Jingyi and I came across this hand.” Lan Sizhui reported concisely. “It appeared before us, even though we had already been in the area for several hours, so its sudden appearance caught us off guard. We were able to chase it away from mortals, but had severe trouble containing it - it was being moved by an ethereal energy and a bound Night Mare.”

They all straightened. Jiang Cheng’s arms folded, and Xiao Xingchen gently shushed his entourage.

(Jin Zixuan waved a hand through the splattering of golden horses beginning to form.)

“A local Spirit intervened and we managed to subdue it enough for Hanguang-Jun to arrive and help,” Lan Jingyi continued, a faint flush at the admittance of needing help, “but when we brought it out to examine it, the Night Mare had vanished, leaving only the energy. However, it was still just as ferocious as before - the Night Mare hadn’t been feeding it any resentment. It was the Will entirely.”

“A Will able to dominate something like a Night Mare?” Xiao Xingchen echoed slowly, “Whoever’s Will, it must have been powerful - only few people can overpower the Bogeyman’s creatures.”

“You, kid,” Jiang Cheng’s voice was sour as he looked at Lan Jingyi, “who was the local Spirit?”

“He said his name was Mo Xuanyu,” Lan Sizhui interjected, “he jumped in when it caught us off guard, bringing it down with a scythe made of shadows.”

A very aghast silence fell over the Guardians. Jin Zixuan exhaled. (His sand churned)

“Well, fuck.”

“I suppose it was too optimistic to consider the matter over forever.” Xiao Xingchen carefully noted, “After all, he was always the most resourceful-“

“He was dragged down and sealed away,” Jiang Cheng’s voice bore a level of venom unmatched by any of them, and Jin Zixuan winced, sand flinching in tight as it reminded him of the _other_ individual he might have to warn of this, “Wei Wuxian can’t return.”

“I don’t . . .” they all turned, gazes piercing at the interruption, and Lan Sizhui cut himself off, thoroughly intimidated.

“Sizhui,” for the first time, Lan Wangji’s voice echoed over them and the Guardians all glanced up at him. He nodded at the trainee, “speak freely.”

There was a warning there - no one was allowed to scare his precious little brat. Not that the sentiment was unfamiliar to Jin Zixuan so he relaxed despite his irritation over Lan Wangji’s unfailing general disregard for those he didn’t care for.

His little Jack Frost, on the other hand, straightened, “I don’t think the Spirit had any bad intentions. He only appeared when our fighting was extensive enough to draw surrounding attention. He then warned us against agitating it with a portal, and only directly intervened when our lives were in danger. I think he was just curious, and he definitely wasn’t trying to hurt us.”

“Even so, Sizhui,” Lan Xichen interjected, tone gentle instead of condescending like the rest of them - well maybe not Xiao Xingchen, but probably everyone else - would have sounded, “The scythe of shadows could only ever be wielded by the Bogeyman. What’s more, you said the Night Mare vanished from the hand after he struck it - Night Mares would only ever be so obedient to their true Master.”

“Wait so . . .” Jingyi looked faintly green, “Did we really meet Wei Wuxian last night?”

He squeaked at the various level of dark that grew on the faces of those around him.

“Wei Wuxian went out with the Dark Ages,” Jiang Cheng insisted, a stubborn tilt to his chin, “his power sealed and believers gone. If he’s even still alive down there, he wouldn’t be able to leave.”

There was a faint crack from the hearth and Lan Wangji set down his now cracked tea cup before it could spill.

“We don’t know that,” Jin Zixuan argued back, “Fear refused to take a new master after Wei Wuxian - for all we know he never lost his power and just bided his time to return.”

“Regardless of identity, if he is not actively hostile, it is even urgent enough for us to personally attend too?” Xiao Xingchen pointed out.

The air changed.

They all shut up, turning to the moon high above. Lan Xichen straightened, turning and gazing up.

“A-Yao? What did you see?”

A single spotlight of moonlight lit up the balcony’s floor, striking where the sigil of their order had been engraved into the wood and they all gathered around, even Lan Wangji floating down from his perch on high.

Across the light, an all-too familiar silhouette danced, a memory of what the Man on the Moon had spied.

“. . . Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen voiced it aloud.

Jiang Cheng swore. Jin Zixuan began mentally sketching up a four-page speech to try and explain this to his beloved wife. Xiao Xingchen just sighed. Lan Wangji gave no visible reaction, but his eyes were glowing like freshly lit lanterns.

Wei Wuxian would like to say he bravely struck out at night, determined to get to the bottom of the matter.

In reality, he stayed in his darkness like a coward for fifteen days straight, waiting until the moon was well and truly New before even daring to venture out. It wasn’t _all_ bad - he and Wen Ning had 1300 years of missed information to catch up, though it said something about how they had spent it that they only needed about four days to cover everything.

Go Fish was immensely more interesting with a player 2, so hey, it wasn’t completely boring.

However, they couldn’t linger for too long, and soon a Night Mare was riding up beside them, informing them that the last of the moon had turned away from the pond area and it was safe to go up.

He caught Wen Ning before they passed up.

“You might want to adjust that.” He gestured vaguely to the huge black robe draped around his best friend and Wen Ning pouted, before lightly closing his eyes. The robe dissolved into sand, quickly replaced with a black turtleneck, slacks and combat boots.

“Better?”

“Excellent,” Wei Wuxian twirled his finger and Wen Ning floated in an idle circle. Black sand picked at his long matted hair, whisking the top half up into a ponytail, and forming a clasp around it, the rest hanging loose, “Death is now ready to step into modern society.”

“Yay me.”

Wei Wuxian grinned, grasped his wrist and pulled them both up.

They popped up right in the middle of the day, both wincing at the sun as they slunk out of the scant shadows left by foliage.

The lake where the hand had appeared sparkled in the daylight, not a single trace of ice remaining, and Wei Wuxian huffed. Damn Guardians and their need to clean up at the expense of damaging clues.

“I’ll start with the lake itself - can you skim the town for anything that might have drawn it here?” he called over and Wen Ning nodded, fading away as Wei Wuxian coasted back over to the lake. In the vibrant Spring morning, a whole crowd of families had gathered around it, small little boats floating along to the cheers of the kids who had created them, all ready for Easter only a few days away.

Wei Wuxian watched them for a moment, smiling, before drifting closer, absently grazing his hand against a mother who really ought to be paying closer attention to her son. Slowly rising higher, he pulled at his sand, closing his eyes.

 _Show me what happened_.

Unseen to the mortals, black sand ran across the lake, darting between legs, dancing across the water, calling up the memories of the lake. It all regathered at his palm, forming together into a playback of the scene.

It was nothing very informative. The hand had been chased here by the two Spirits, nothing drawing it specifically to the lake. He paused several times, pulling apart the small sand-formed replica of the hand, but the entity inside gave away no clues to its identity.

Huffing, he waited for the memory to finish, his own miniature form intervening and wow, fuck, calling Wen Ning was really obvious, wasn’t it?

And then he suddenly vanished, and the Guardian of Light stepped out from the portal.

(Wei Wuxian inhaled slightly)

Black sand was never great with details, but Lan Wangji looked like he’d gotten a bit taller over the years - had maybe felt the need to shift his age to slightly older. Wei Wuxian was comfortable sitting in his ‘mid-twenties’ but he knew a lot of the other Spirits tended to slowly age themselves in order to seem more mature.

(Old Man Lan had his name for a _reason_ after all)

He watched for a few more minutes, smiling slightly at the way the two young Spirits floated eagerly around him, taking the hand and darting into the portal, the Guardian at their heels. He was just preparing to cancel it when the small black figurine paused and then turned to stare directly at him.

Its eyes were formed from sands of gold.

(His heart stopped)

He crushed his hand through the memory, dispersing the sand and sending it off.

Just a reaction - it meant nothing. It definitely didn’t mean someone was controlling Dreamsand to find him, oh fuck, the Guardians were already onto him, weren’t they?

“Master Wei?”

He screamed and lunged back through the air.

Wen Ning tilted his head, a mix of concerned and exasperated. Wei Wuxian blinked at him, dropped his aggressive stance and coughed awkwardly.

“Any progress?” He planted on his beaming smile.Wen Ning shook his head, unsurprisingly. This thing seemed to have come out from nowhere.

The Spirit of Death shuffled.

“Master Wei . . . I kinda need to . . . to go.”

“Go right ahead - Death’s probably pretty tangled up, isn’t it?” he asked, and the Spirit nodded mournfully.

“I’ll try and . . . diminish the pile that’s built up.”

“Okay - plan to meet back in the Under Realm tonight?”

Wen Ning nodded, and they two embraced. The Reaper dissolved into the few shadows around him and he sighed, jumped into the nearest shadow and snatched at Mo Xuanyu’s consciousness.

The man was getting admittedly better at not screaming each time he popped up from the most convenient shadow.

He was in his small apartment, right in the midst of cleaning his dirty dishes and Wei Wuxian settled down on the bench top beside him.

“You wanna go out?”

Mo Xuanyu just glared, shoving the last of the dishes into the drying rack and pulling out the plug.

“Why, did you get bored of being wimp?”

“Sorta, also I want to bounce some ideas of you.”

Mo Xuanyu sighed, pulling off rubber gloves. “Whatever. There’s a university expo down at the convention centre - I’ve been considering picking back up some online classes.”

“Sounds excellent!” he clapped as he shifted back into the air, tugging his believer towards the door. “Let’s go!”

Mo Xuanyu just sighed once more.

Wei Wuxian refused to entertain the thought that he was quite desperately distracting himself as they plodded through the city, instead commenting on any random thought that popped into his mind.

Of course, it didn’t last, and Mo Xuanyu ambushed him whilst in the middle of palming through a brochure on classical literature.

“Have you seen anymore Spirits?”

Wei Wuxian, relaxing atop the stall and inhaling any of the anxieties in the students passing by, jolted.

Immediately, his cheeks puffed out and he sniffed.

“Of course not! Do you doubt my great skills of stealth?”

“Kinda.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, before bursting into laughter. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Mo Xuanyu rolled his eyes, took some pamphlets and walked on, Wei Wuxian floating after him. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“How could something appear in a place, without any sign of it arriving?”

“Huh?”

“Like, it wasn’t there. And then the next moment it was. But there’s nothing to show it got there on its own.”

“Well, presumably, if it didn’t get there on its own, someone else put it there.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him.

Mo Xuanyu huffed, defensive, “What?”

“A-Yu, you’re a genius.”

“Wait, really?”

“YES!!” the mortal didn’t jump, but it was a closet thing. Wei Wuxian was already rolling onto his back, thinking, “If someone masked its presence until they released it, as well as their own . . . but then who would do that? Why would someone make something so complex only to release it? For the _Lan_ to find no less?”

“Are they a big deal?”

“Sort of - it’d be the mortal equivalent of making a brand new drug and then proudly leaving it on the doorstop of a police station.”

Mo Xuanyu snickered.

They wandered around for a few more hours, visiting the stalls, discussing the courses. Wei Wuxian had no fucking clue what some of the things were, but he’d learnt quickly that Mo Xuanyu had a bad habit of keeping everything internal. Just talking aloud to someone else helped him to much more effectively organise his thoughts. A few of the prospective students would occasionally stumble as they passed, double-taking, and the few who were truly anxious enough to get a proper glimpse of him received a wave for their stresses.

Normally, he’d be a little less absent minded about it, but Mo Xuanyu’s comment had him thinking.

So whoever had done this was either incredibly stupid (unlikely, that thing was ComplexTM) or deliberately trying to get the attention of the Guardians.

But why would someone try to get their attention? To make them pay attention? To draw them out?

(To turn them against each other if one of them was responsible?)

It was starting to give him a headache.

“-Xian. Wei Wuxian!”

He startled, glancing over. Mo Xuanyu was frowning at him.

“You okay?”

“I’m just fine, A-Yu!” he chirped, shrugging off the weight and instead settling himself around his believer’s shoulders, “Just fine.”

He walked Mo Xuanyu back to his apartment, floating along behind him as he went through the motions of his evening, drawing out any of the black from the man’s dreams and only leaving once he was confident that they’d remain firmly gold.

It was old habit, to slip out under the window, inhaling the night wind as he gave the bedroom one last check.

“Wei Ying.”

He froze, hovering outside the window, hand still gripping the wooden sill as he slowly turned.

And there he was.

Floating calmly under the stars, long black hair swirling around his waist, elaborately gowned in robes and regalia of white and blue. That stupid ribbon trailed in the faint night breeze.

None of the floating lights he watched over could match the sheer ethereal beauty of those golden eyes.

He forced a smile, twirling around in the air, hands behind his head in a show of calm.

“Lan Zhan.” He inclined his head, “S’up?” 

Slowly, the Guardian of Light flew closer and he reflexively backed up to the roof, lighting down and keeping the distance between him. Not a single expression crossed that marble face, but with a clearer view, Wei Wuxian could have sworn there was a faintly dull light to his eye.

Sheesh, who died and broke this man’s heart?

“So how long have you been following me?” he called. Lan Wangji lighted down on the opposite end of the roof, respecting the distance he’d nonverbally demanded.

“. . . Noon.”

“Aww, were you eavesdropping on my date with A-Yu?” he protested, smiling internally at how _that_ comment visibly irritated the other man, his eyebrows twitching together.

“Did not listen.”

“Always a gentleman,” he knocked back, tone flippant, “so what gave it away? My Night Mares? My stunt with your trainees? My unbelievably sexy body?”

Lan Wangji blinked at him. “Wei Ying is Wei Ying.”

“Whilst I appreciate the compliment, Lan Zhan, that doesn’t exactly assist me in future attention swerving endeavours.”

“You were seen by the Man on the Moon.”

Internally, he groaned in frustration. Of course. Of fucking course. Couldn’t go _one_ night exposed to the moon without those busybodies catching him in their light.

Outwardly, he shrugged.

“So what? Jin Guangshan’s too lazy to catch me if I stay out of the light.”

“. . . Gone.”

“Hmm?”

“Jin Guangyao is the Man on the Moon.”

He blinked, processed it and immediately burst into laughter. Lan Wangji frowned.

“Wei Ying.”

“No, haha, I’m, oh, haha, give me . . . give me a moment,” he clutched his gut, tears building in his eyes. So. After all the speeches, the rants, those lectures the man had felt himself suited to hand out, _he’d_ vanished _before_ Wei Wuxian? What an amazing outcome!

“Sorry, sorry, I know we shouldn’t disrespect the dead but - come on, Lan Zhan! How can I not be entertained by that?” he wiped away his tears to not push the proper Guardian _too_ much, “Ah, a lot’s changed in 1300 years, hasn’t it?”

“. . . Mm.”

“On topic of what’s changed, who were those trainees, anyway?” he grinned, straightening up and resting a hand against his hip. “That Sizhui kid seemed pretty capable, but I don’t remember him.”

“. . . The Winter Solstice, Lan Jingyi. Jack Frost, Lan Sizhui.”

“The Winter Solstice huh? So that must make him Jin Ling’s balance . . .” he frowned, “but who’s Jack Frost?”

“A new Spirit. Appeared 300 years after you . . .”

“Huh . . .” He huffed, a small nostalgic thing, “ah well, times change. But you’re probably not here just to catch me up on who’s who, right?”

Lan Wangji gave a single nod and he shrugged nonchalantly, “Yeah, sorry. If you’re planning on hauling me off to the Moon, don’t even try~ I might be out of practice, but you still won’t be able to catch a shadow.”

“All the Guardians are looking.”

“Yeah I can imagine, haaaa . . . let me guess, Jiang Cheng and Chifeng-zun are leading the charge?”

“Nie Mingjue is dead.”

“He never did, wait, _seriously_? Him _too_? Is there anybody _not_ dead?”

Lan Wangji sent him a very dry look for _that_ comment, but he thought it was entirely reasonable. Yeesh, he knew the modern world had increased overall scepticism but still, surely belief wasn’t _that_ screwed up yet.

Though come to think of it . . .

“But hey, how did he go, if you’re still here?” he wondered, “Doesn’t the Vow sort of tie you all to the same anchor before chucking you in the deep end?”

Lan Wangji looked even less pleased with that analogy and he just held his chin high, unrepentant. 1300 years it might have been, but it was _not_ changing his opinion about the Guardians.

“He vanished almost 1000 years ago,” Lan Wangji just sighed instead and Wei Wuxian blinked, “Wei Ying, it is not why I’m here.”

“Yeah, yeah, you want to know about the Hand thing, right?” He frowned door at the roof, now thinking more carefully, “Well, join the bandwagon - I didn’t do it. I even thought I would have had to appease the Night Mare when I pulled it out, but the poor thing was terrified. Whatever was possessing that hand was its own form of nasty.”

Wei Wuxian placed a knuckle to his lip, “Say, was it still violent in the North Pole?”

Lan Wangji just shook his head, “It would not settle at first, but as soon as Brother returned to strengthen the barrier, it seemed to quiet down.”

“It did huh? I’d like another look at it - especially the mechanism that bound-”

“ _Wei Ying_ ,” Lan Wangji’s voice didn’t sound any heavier than his previous words, but Wei Wuxian felt the weight behind it anyway, “that is _not_ why I’m here.”

He just sighed, hands moving up behind his head and he shifted back and forth along the concrete roof.

“Ah, I know, I know, but my exile is such old news and this hand is just a lot more interesting.”

“It is not your concern.”

“I think it is. I stepped in and helped contain it. And someone’s clearly messing around with my Night Mares. If anything, don’t I have _more_ reason to step in? I’m clearly the expert. Who else would know what was going on? The _Guardians_?”

Those pristine white boots twitched forward, their owner blank faced as ever.

“Wei Ying-”

Sand coagulated between him and Lan Wangji stiffened. Wen Ning stood firm, posture not entirely aggressive, but definitely leaning towards it.

“Hanguang-Jun,” he greeted, politely bowing his head. Lan Wangji stared at him, wary.

“. . . Wen Qionglin.”

In the tense silence that followed, Wei Wuxian sighed, a bit theatrically.

“Now what’s all this, huh?” he reached forward and lightly tugged on Wen Ning’s shoulder. Slowly, the Spirit of Death loosened his stance, stepping back beside him, “I’d really like there to be no fighting.”

“Mm.” Lan Wangji dipped his head in agreement.

Wen Ning still looked as tepid as ever, but Wei Wuxian _knew_ him, better than anyone else. _He_ was still more than ready for a fight.

“So now what?” Wei Wuxian lightly scooped himself into the air, legs folded underneath him, “I would assume the esteemed Hanguang-Jun wouldn’t dream of causing a commotion right amidst mortal dwellings. Then again, you never could abide a being like me, Lan Zhan.”

If he still knew his stuff, he’d believe the esteemed Hanguang-Jun found that comment vaguely irritating. His lips twitched up thinly.

“So? What’s it going to be? Are you going to look the other way, or is Wen Ning here going to blacken you?”

(Just like what he did to-)

“I’d like a quick answer, Lan Zhan,” he gritted his teeth into a smile, burying that thought down deep, “not too keen on waiting for the others to show up, if you get what I mean.”

Lan Wangji’s shoulders rose and fell, ever so slightly, “Already here.”

“Hm? Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you have a mouth, you have a brain. Put them together and you get words. Actual explanatory sentences. Let’s apply the things we have, why don’t we?”

Lan Wangji just stared back, face carved from jade, “The other Guardians are already here. A boundary was set up to trap you.”

He startled, and could’t hide his intent as he dropped out of the sky, sinking his bare feet into the shadows of the roof. Sure enough, nothing. Blocked. Nada. The world spread out a set amount and then just seemed to vanish, no means of travelling away.

Or _down_.

He clenched his jaw and exchanged a look with Wen Ning. His friend’s eyes widened, reading the truth of their situation off Wei Wuxian’s face, before immediately turning back to step between his Master and the Guardian of Light.

Lan Wangji frowned at him.

Wei Wuxian ignored them both, still digging his senses into the dark.

The strongest was of course Xiao Xingchen, whose minor _army_ could be detected no matter where he went. He was off to their right, covering the most ground. 

The faintest had to be Jin Zixuan, high above, using the infinite streams of Dreamsand to maintain the barrier. His and Wei Wuxian’s powers had always been at odds so it made sense that his shadows were shy of getting too close.

And on their left, closing in, was a single figure, moving at the speed of lightning, making his way through the underground tunnels.

 _Jiang Cheng_.

He swallowed, before pulling back his shoulders and resting his hands on his hips.

“So, this was just a long decoy, huh, Lan Zhan? Keep me talking whilst the others pull shut the trap? You’ve got so much slyer in your old age.”

Lan Wangji looked veritably _offended_ by the rather reasonable accusation, far more off put at being called sly than by the way black sand began to float around Wen Ning, the Spirit all too geared up to attack. Once, Wei Wuxian might have signalled him to go - to knock out the Guardian of Light and cleave through the barrier, evade the Guardians and slip through to safety.

But that was when the Bogeyman was known. When a mere mention of his name had people glancing under their beds, over their shoulders. When every mother in the world invoked his name to make naughty children behave.

Now, there was only one person who believed in the creature that lurked beneath beds.

And there were a whole lot more who still believed in the Guardians.

His hands tightened, ever so slightly, into the bunched fabric around his waist. It couldn’t be helped. As long as he could make a small hole, that’s all he needed to slip out. The longer he remained, the thicker the Sandman could craft the barrier, so he couldn’t afford to waste time here chatting

“I will not hand you over to them.”

He paused and glanced up. Lan Wangji was watching him intently, paying absolutely no mind to the Spectre of Death two wrong words short of attacking him. The golden lanterns flickered, burning.

“I . . . wish for your help. With dealing with the Hand.”

He stared at him, hands falling limply, eyebrow arched, “Lan Zhan . . . are you saying that . . . you’re working _against_ the Guardians?”

It was unheard of. It was inconceivable. Lan Wangji had always held the Order of the Guardians to be his most sacred of duties - to jeopardize it for the one Spirit who despised the Order the most was insanity.

Lan Wangji just nodded.

“Jiang Wanyin will not be merciful. Xiao Xingchen and Jin Zixuan . . . they will let others take the lead. If they catch you like this, you will be in danger.”

Wei Wuxian blinked and then narrowed his eyes slightly, “What about Zewu-Jun, then?”

“Brother is willing to hear you out.” Lan Wangji blinked, “He is waiting back at the Workshop.”

Seriously?

. . . .

_Seriously?_

What was wrong with the Guardians?? They were meant to be the strongest united front in the entirety of the Spirit realms, and yet? Nice Mingjue was _dead_ , Lan Wangji was working _alone_ , Zewu-Jun was willing to let _him_ , Wei Wuxian, _the Bogeyman_ , into the _Workshop_.

(WHAT THE EVER-LOVING FUCK HAD CHANGED IN THE PAST 1300 YEARS????)

Around them, the barrier had shrunk, the other three Guardians no more than five minutes away from locking onto his position.

“So, what is it going to be, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji parroted his own words back at him in a way that could only be smug, “Would you like to face Jiang Wanyin?”

He stared stonily at his old friend.

Of course, he didn’t.

If Jiang Cheng found him, he’d . . . he’d . . .

Well, he’d get the beating of a lifetime for starters. Probably locked up with his powers sealed. Getting cut off from the world would be the good option.

The bad option would be if the ruler of the Warren learnt exactly whose house this was. Learnt the identity of the one man who could see Wei Ying, who gave him the power to pass through his realm. If Jiang Cheng learnt that then . . . _then_. . .

(There was always more than one way to snuff out a light)

Around him, the air only grew more charged, a rumble echoing through the ground, unfelt by mortals but crystal clear to Spirits, as the figure traversing the underground narrowed down his search all the tighter.

Fuck.

 _Argh_ , dumb, too-perfect Lan Zhan with his well thought out plans and infallible poker face. Grumbling, he glanced over to his friend, watching them both with completely black eyes.

“Wen Ning, hide for me. Stay ready.”

“Of course,” Wen Ning dispersed into black sand, every piece fading out of sight and he exhaled at the familiar presence returning to rest at his side. With that done, he folded his arms challengingly, and couldn’t help but observe the slight trace of satisfaction on his old friend’s face.

Smug, flawless, bastard.

“I expect Hanguang-Jun to be the most gentlemanly of escorts,” he held out his hand imperially, sulky pout on his face, and then just blinked as Lan Wangji immediately wafted over to his side and took the offered hand.

 _It was still soft_.

“Mark your words.”

“Mark my-? Lan Zhan, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Lan Wangji ignored him, reaching into his robes to pull out a snow globe and shake it.

“Workshop.”

The word, scarcely breathed against the glass, swirled through the contained storm and the image of the immense fortress appeared within. He dropped it into the air and they both stepped back as the portal snapped open, arctic winds and snow billowing out.

On the street below, the road cracked as a tunnel opened up. Wei Wuxian stiffened, glancing back to spy two long grey ears emerging, but then the hand around his pulled and he went straight into the swirling portal with a yelp.

Somehow, he landed upright, on his feet, and not with parts of his body dissolved into sand from shock. So, miraculously, wins all around. (Maybe portal travel was also like riding a bike?) 

“Welcome back, Master Wei.”

He jumped and turned his focus out.

Lan Xichen smiled at him, somehow, furred coat trailing the wooden floorboards, and out beyond him spread the heart of the Workshop.

He’d seen it before, all those years ago, had gotten to know every inch of the place, but his breath caught anyway. The entirety of the Workshop was as immaculate as last he’d seen it, every detail, every ornament, preserved for all eternity. And at the heart, suspended between two huge wooden axes, a planet slowly rotated, aglow with golden lights. Enshrined in floating bells and shining trees, the heart of the Workshop lived up to its position as the home of Wonder.

“Brother.”

The Bogeyman blinked, headspace coming back down, as he faced Santa Claus.

“Zewu-Jun,” he bowed as far down as politeness dictated, “it is good to see you are well.”

“As with you,” Lan Xichen’s smile turned the slightest bit amused, “if slightly more surprising.”

He let out a faintly embarrassed chuckle, before clearing his throat and holding his hands up entreatingly.

“Anyway, no clue what Lan Zhan sent ahead, so I’m just going to get this all out - I have no interest in interfering with the Guardians. No grudge, no plan, no nothing - I didn’t even plan on coming back up. All I want to do is keep to my shadows and not bother anyone. I honestly had no intention of messing with your juniors-”

“It’s all right, Master Wei,” Lan Xichen intruded, “this isn’t an interrogation. Neither Wangji nor myself ever considered you responsible for that hand.”

He blinked, straightening up and glancing over. Lan Wangji was staring at his brother in that absent way he tended towards, like his motions had been drilled so deeply into him that all his movements were muscle memory, actual attention elsewhere. He was decidedly not staring at Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji, not seeing him as the root of all evil? Well that was new.

If he was even being sincere.

(No, that was unfair. Lan Wangji was never insincere. It was Wei Wuxian who dwelled in lies and deceit and illusions and-)

He shook himself and turned back to Lan Xichen.

“Not that I’m ungrateful, but, umm, why? There was a bound Night Mare to it, _and_ a Will that could only have from a Spirit with a violent death. That sort of sounds right up our alley.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes crinkled, “Well, as you said yourself, _binding_ Night Mares is not an ability unique to you. And might I be right to say that your return is not recent?”

“Well, it is pretty recent relative to us. It’s probably been about six months.”

“Yet not once in all that time have you revealed yourself.” Lan Xichen tilted his head, eyes searching, “You did not intend for A-Yao to see you that night in at the pond.”

He shrugged half-heartedly. Why deny it? “Oh, give him my belated congratulations, by the way. He worked hard enough to deserve it.”

Lan Xichen just smiled wider, dipping his head in acquiescence. “It seems unreasonable to accuse you of such an abnormal event when you’ve displayed such a lack of interest in our affairs. This is what Wangji proposed when he asked to bring you here without telling the others.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, glancing over. Lan Zhan, huh? Where was all this understanding energy coming from?

Lan Wangji, meanwhile, had sent a slight frown his brother’s way. But was it a frown over a lie, or a reveal?

(Not for the first time, Wei Wuxian found himself groaning at his old friend’s lack of expression)

“However, would I be right in assuming you took the Night Mare with you when you intervened at the lake?”

Wei Wuxian blinked, before nodding slightly, “Can’t offer much about that. I can’t understand her. Sorry.”

They both stared at him, Lan Xichen visibly frowning in shock and Lan Wangji’s forehead creased ever so slightly.

“You can’t understand a Night Mare?” Lan Xichen echoed, incredulous, and Wei Wuxian huffed.

“Might be easier just to show you,” he reached up and flicked a lock of his hair. Black sand fell free, coalescing around his hand into the tiny, shivering little Night Mare. The Twin Jades were immediately at his side. Lan Xichen gently reached up, running a hand over the poor thing’s head.

“What could have caused this?”

“Dunno,” he gently called her back into his hair, “but her fear’s been so potent that I’ve had to bring her with me to keep her from agitating the others.”

The two brothers glanced at each other.

“This is why you returned to the lake?”

“Basically,” even now, he could feel the poor thing huddling close to his energy, drinking in his protection, “I wanted to try and find out how it got there so suddenly.”

“Did you find anything?” Lan Wangji asked and he shrugged.

“Well, no, but that sort of is saying something. I think they were directly targeting you guys.”

They both blinked at him and he sighed.

“Something like this would normally never just so happen to appear in front of two members of the Lan family. They wanted you two to notice this.”

“They?” Lan Xichen echoed, “You think there is a ‘they’?“

“Someone had to build it and leave it.” He shrugged, “it’s why I’m still sort of sceptical you guys think I’m innocent.”

“It is unlike Wei Ying.”

He paused, glancing across in surprise. Lan Wangji was looking at him, confident and slightly too sincere to make Wei Wuxian’s heart calm down.

Before he could settle the rising red on his cheeks, the moment was ruined as the two little Lans suddenly came soaring up over the balcony, both looking visibly harried.

They jumped at the sight of him. Lan Sizhui recovered faster.

“Senior Mo . . . Senior Wei,” Lan Sizhui smiled at him, still polite despite it all, “it is nice to see you again.”

He lazily saluted, as Lan Xichen frowned beside him.

“What’s happened?”

“An urgent signal came through communications,” Lan Jingyi, beside him, looked much more panicked, “trouble at the Tooth Palace.”

“We’ll take the sleigh,” the rest of the Lan followed Lan Xichen without question, navigating the wooden hallways of the workshop off memory. He sent forward a message, and the yetis ran ahead to prepare the vehicle. Lan Wangji fell back to where Wei Wuxian was lingering.

“Wei Ying?”

What was _up_ with Lan Wangji? Wei Wuxian didn’t recall him being ever so accommodating. Last Wei Wuxian checked, if Lan Wangji had heard his brother offer the Bogeyman a place on the sleigh, he would have fervently objected to it! The thought brought him down to his current unease.

“I can just go through my shadows,” he chirped, “will probably be quicker to be honest.”

He couldn’t ask Lan Wangji to let him up on his brother’s sleigh. He wasn’t _that_ shameless.

Lan Wangji blinked at him.

“You are exiled. You cannot enter the Tooth Palace without the permission of a Guardian.”

Wei Wuxian blinked and then bit down on his lip. 

Oh right.

“Guess I forgot that bit, haha!” his smile felt strained, was it strained? “You’re so smart Lan Zhan!”

“. . . You forgot you’re exiled?”

“Of course not! Who could forget?” he hurried on past the Guardian, overwhelmingly aware of the silent man following at his shoulder.

Lan Xichen throwing open the doors to the stable was the distraction he needed to speed up, trailing behind eagerly.

(The whole of the North Pole was gawking at him, but Wei Wuxian’s thick face has always been second to none)

And his eagerness wasn’t entirely fake. After all, Wei Wuxian couldn’t say he wasn’t curious. Lan Xichen had been riding the sleigh long before Qingheng-Jun formally retired, and he was honestly excited to see the rickety old thing again.

Lan Wangji caught his hood and yanked him back before he was run over by a sleigh the size of a small bus. He couldn’t stop himself from gaping at the huge vehicle, the navigational globe inserted into an exquisitely painted front, the back rising up to become seats instead of carrying presents. The nine reindeer all stomped their way past, tearing up the snow and ice, bucking and eager to get going.

(Both of the Two Jades were looking down at him)

He puffed out his cheeks. “I see you got some upgrades.”

Lan Xichen’s lips twitched, “Just a couple. Now come - we shouldn’t delay.”

With a flick of his coat, he stepped up into the front of the sleigh, grasping the reins. Wei Wuxian didn’t hesitate, eagerly climbing up after him. The seats rose up higher than his _head_ , freshly lacquered and ha! No splinters!

Lan Wangji floated up beside him, his signature sword sitting over his shoulder.

“Jingyi, Sizhui,” he rumbled, and the two Spirits hesitating on the side jumped, quickly hurrying up. Lan Jingyi was still staring at Wei Wuxian in open curiosity, whereas Lan Sizhui’s already ice white skin had gone veritably grey.

“Hey, are you really the Bogeyman?” Lan Jingyi blurted out, and Wei Wuxian winked. 

His eyes flashed red and the shadows sharpened his teeth and he knew it worked because the Spirit squeaked and stumbled back onto the seat.

Ahead of them, the huge gates enclosing the stables swung open and the freezing Northern winds whistled straight through.

Lan Sizhui let out a faint moan.

Lan Xichen finished adjusting his globe and turned to a Yeti tightening a screw on the side. “Are we ready to go? Excellent!” He hiked up the reins despite the fervent protests from the yetis.

Wei Wuxian glanced over curious at the way Lan Sizhui just sank lower, hands over his eyes.

“Everyone ready?” Lan Xichen sent them a beaming smile, “Let’s go!”

He brought the reins down with a crack and the reindeer took off at full velocity, not bound by pesky mortal things like physics. The sleigh went shooting off across the ice, whirling and twirling through the icy tunnels that lay below the Workshop. Wei Wuxian leapt to his feet, hair whistling in the wild wind, a whoop echoing from his throat as he leant over the side.

A hand caught his wrist and pulled him back down.

Lan Wangji looked distinctly unimpressed, perched aristocratically on the wooden seating, book in hand, as the sleigh went upside down.

“You will fall.”

“Oh come on, Lan Zhan. I thought I’d never get to see this place without getting shanked - I want to enjoy it while I can!”

“Unsafe.”

Wei Wuxian huffed. Slightly behind him, Lan Jingyi was patting his companion’s back.

“You good?”

“I think I’m about to see breakfast again . . .” Lan Sizhui pressed a hand to his mouth.

Up ahead, the ice caverns were opening up, light streaming in. Lan Xichen let out a loud ‘hyah!’ and the reindeer only increased their manic speed, golden light beginning to shine beneath the entire sleigh. 

With a final creak of wood, the reindeer tore up a ramp, built precariously on the edge of a cliff face, and the sleigh followed straight into the air. There was the brief moment of weightlessness, before the reindeer soared and the sleigh went flying upwards.

Lan Sizhui audibly exhaled as their pace settled, the sleigh now gliding through the sky. In Lan Wangji’s moment of distraction (and honestly Lan Wangji was really fucking cute getting so concerned over his trainee) Wei Wuxian snuck back up to the edge.

“Woah, check out this _view_ -SHIT!”

Lan Wangji spun violently, racing to the edge. Wei Wuxian grinned up at him, reclining on one of the sleigh’s tracks, as that perfect face appeared.

“Aw. You really seem to care, Lan Er-Gege~”

Lan Wangji’s face turned frigid and he was promptly hauled back into the sleigh. Lan Xichen just smiled over all four of them, rolling a snow globe in his hands.

“I’m thinking . . . **Tooth Palace**.”

The distinct golden spires appeared in the globe for the briefest of moments before Lan Xichen lobbed it ahead of them. The portal snapped open, bringing with it summer winds and warm airs. 

The sleigh twisted around, distorting through the portal, Lan Xichen’s relaxed laugh echoing about them, as they soared out over the towering golden fortress of the Tooth Fairy armies.

And something was dreadfully wrong.

They all straightened as they flew closer, the usually thriving palace seemingly void of the millions of fairies that passed through. 

Black sand seemed to explode out from the palace. The shrill pitch of the tooth fairies echoed over them, as the swarms fled the shapes cantering through the sky. 

All approaching them very rapidly.

“Hold on!” Lan Xichen could barely warn them before black sand slammed into the sleigh, rebounding and flying past, most moving too fast to even discern. Some were fleeing, vanishing into the distance, splitting away from the sleigh. Others were flying erratically, loops and spirals as they were chasing-

“They’re taking the tooth fairies!” Lan Sizhui gasped, leaping out from the carriage to snatch one to safety before Wei Wuxian could even blink.

He spun, squinting, his entire brain heavy as he tried to reach out to the invading herd.

_Blocked_

_Blocked_

_Blocked_

He clutched his head and let out a faint groan.

Lan Sizhui dropped beside him, cradling the tiny hummingbird like creature.

“Are you all right?”

It nodded shakily. Lan Xichen turned.

“Jingyi, take the reins!”

“Sir!”

Both he and Lan Wangji got to their feet, swords whistling as they were drawn, just in time for the last of the fairy thieves to escape and a swarm of black poured out from the Palace as the rear attack.

A wave of vicious Night Mares.

( _No_.)

Fury flowed through his veins and his teeth bared with a hiss.

“Wei Ying?!”

( _Those weren’t normal Night Mares_.)

He held out his hand, foot hitting the edge of the sleigh, his scythe immediately coming to hand, and he launched himself into the air before either Guardian could stop him. He immediately felt the pressure increase, his exile rejecting his presence at the Tooth Palace without the sleigh’s protection. His and Wen Ning’s combined rage shrugged it off.

( **Who had _dared_ to tamper with _his_ dominion!?!)**

He cast the scythe wide and Wen Ning easily tripled in size, the immense crescent blade increasing to five times the length of his body, as he rolled it around and cleaved the air. A shockwave resonated across the sky and the Night Mares all shrieked as it disintegrated them on contact, exploding each into a cloud of black sand. He called the coalescing essences to his palm with a snarl.

(There was something _in_ it)

He glared minutely, dropping the scythe and holding out two opened palms. Black sand immediately shot over to his right, forming a twisting sphere. But into his left?

 _Static_.

He could only observe, eyes narrow, as manic sand, spiking with red static, coiled and writhed atop his left palm, desperately trying to escape his control. Almost absently, he dropped down through the sky, feet bumping against the sleigh. The two Winter Spirits stared, equally fixed, on the abnormality barely contained by his power.

“Master Wei,” Lan Xichen opened slowly, “. . . _what_ is that?”

“Dunno,” he held up his right hand, “A-Ning, take the rest down.”

The scythe, hovering around him, immediately sucked in the regular black sand, both winking out and giving Wei Wuxian the freedom to manipulate this intensified poison.

And then the whole sleigh bumped.

“Jingyi!”

“Right! Sorry!” The Spirit hastily yanked up the reins, hauling them up just in time to skid onto one of the Palace’s balconies, in favour of ramming through one its towers.

“Wei Wuxian, do you still have it?”

“Yeah, I-”

He went rigid as the air grew charged.

Lan Wangji yanked him back, sword bared just in time to deflect the sparking whip aimed at Wei Wuxian’s neck.

“ _Wei Wuxian_.”

(Ah _fuck_ )

Jiang Cheng leapt down from platform to platform, gaze piercing.

Wei Wuxian exhaled slightly, poking his head out from behind Lan Wangji’s protective back.

“Hey Jiang Cheng.”

The look on the Easter Bunny’s face was just shy of black with rage.

(He’d also made himself a little older.)

The point of his whip wasn’t directed at Wei Wuxian.

“Hanguang-Jun,” Jiang Cheng grit out, “Move. This isn’t any of your business.”

Lan Wangji didn’t move, didn’t even lower his sword and Wei Wuxian made the prudent decision to press up closer to him. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Jiang Cheng just glanced between them, face darkening.

“Where are the others?” Lan Xichen stepped out slightly, intervening between the two Guardians looking like they wanted a brawl.

“Right here.” Jin Zixuan appeared in his usual shower of gold, barely sparing the confrontation a glance as he extended a small golden puzzle box, “We found what they came for.”

“The teeth?” Lan Xichen moved up to his side. 

“Who’d want some dumb teeth?” Wei Wuxian glanced over towards the voice he didn’t recognise, faintly registering Lan Jingyi’s immediate rumble and Lan Sizhui’s sigh.

A young Spirit had leapt down to stand beside Jin Zixuan, equally clad in gold, but with a fair amount of red braided through his hair. Beside the Sandman, the similarities were shocking.

(Ah . . .)

“Young Master Jin,” Lan Sizhui’s smile was polite, if strained, “it is nice to see you again. But this is official business - maybe a bit of tact is required?”

“Then what about him?” Jin Ling jabbed his bow towards Wei Wuxian, “Outsiders shouldn’t be here during ‘official business’.”

The whole group fell silent.

The Summer Solstice glanced around in confusion.

Wei Wuxian just backed further behind Lan Wangji and tried to pretend he wasn’t there. Jin Ling glanced around in confusion, before his father’s hand fell on his shoulder and Jin Zixuan silently shook his head.

Lan Xichen smiled (somehow, thank the heavens for his ability to stay peaceful) and turned, “How many of the teeth boxes did we recover?”

“Three.”

They all winced. Lan Xichen exhaled.

“And . . . what about-?”

A long drawn out scream broke them apart, the flash of rainbow finally in view, high above them.

“Xingchen!”

Their confrontational stances broke immediately, the four immediately jumping up to join the hysterical Tooth Fairy.

“They took the teeth!” Xiao Xingchen babbled, frantic as the other Guardians gathered around him, “all my fairies!! Everything is _gone_!!”

He fell to his knees with a strangled sob.

“. . . _Everything._ ”

The fairy perched on Lan Sizhui’s shoulder perked up with a chirp.

Xiao Xingchen’s wings beat slightly. “A-Qing?”

The fairy zipped over, energy crackling through the tiny little body just in time for her to shift into a regular mortal size, throwing her arms around her ruler.

“Your Majesty!”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her, “Oh thank goodness. At least one of you is all right.”

Beside Wei Wuxian, Lan Sizhui went to join them, and he quickly held out his arm. The Spirit paused, glancing at him in confusion alongside his cousin. 

“Give them a moment,” he filled in without needing to be asked, “they don’t need us intruding.”

Someone dropped down on his other side.

“I still don’t even know who you are,” Jin Ling grumbled.

That had Lan Jingyi looking like he wanted to scream, but Wei Wuxian was touched that he kept his mouth shut. Instead, the Winter Solstice just turned and pressed his hands against the nearest wall, taking a deep breath and then straightening.

Jin Ling immediately whacked him.

“Be more careful!”

“Oi! Don’t think you can just-!”

“No, Jingyi, he’s right,” Lan Sizhui let out a faint gasp, “Look . . . where you touched the gold . . .”

The four of them inspected the wall, the gold outside dissolving into a dust and fading away.

Wei Wuxian huffed, incredulous but not surprised, “So it’s already started, huh?”

They all looked at him in curiosity. He blinked.

“What are you talking about?” Jin Ling frowned at him and he arched his eyebrow.

“Err, what do you think?” he waved his hand around the empty Palace, “all over the world, kids are waking up and learning that the Tooth Fairy never came. That kind of shit _fucks_ with children. Crushes their innocent little hearts.”

“Wait, you mean people are losing their belief?” Lan Sizhui frowned, “But why would that affect the Palace?”

He stared at them.

(He glanced up at the Guardians above, still comforting the distraught Tooth Fairy)

“They . . . didn’t tell you?”

(Of _course_ they didn’t fucking tell them)

“Tell us what?” Jin Ling crossed his arms, chin up, but his eyes were bright suns of curiosity. Wei Wuxian dragged fingers through his hair and groaned.

“Okay, well, I’m sure you all know how _great_ it is to be a Guardian. Constant belief, power in spades, a secure network . . . but there’s this catch. If enough people _stop_ believing, everything they protect, Hopes, Dreams, it all goes away.”

He made sure he looked each of them in the eye, so his next implication wasn’t lost.

“And little by little, so do they.”

The three gaped at him.

Lan Jingyi went green. Lan Sizhui just looked concerned as he glanced back at the group above.

Jin Ling-

Jin Ling pulled up his fucking bow.

“Um, Jin Ling,” he threw up his hands defensively, “I swear I’m not lying or being flippant or-”

Jin Ling didn’t wait, merely summoning an arrow of sunlight and firing it . . . over his shoulder.

Something shrieked behind him and Wei Wuxian spun around, in time to see a vicious Night Mare dissolve in the sun light. A few more startled away and the three rushed past him.

“Hey, wait!”

They plunged down through the balconies and he groaned, dropping after them, dimly aware of shouts from the Guardians.

They dropped down, right into the small grove at the heart of the Palace. Lan Jingyi caught one of them on his sword, freezing it immediately, as Jin Ling shot another two.

Lan Sizhui just brought his staff down against the ground and strains of blue magic leapt forth to freeze the rest.

(“I beat you.”

“Yeah well, Sizhui beat us both, so hah.”)

“Look at it,” Sizhui gently ran his staff over one of the frozen mares, freezing it solid, “I’ve never seen Night Mares like this.”

(Yeah, neither had he.)

“Something’s messing with them,” Wei Wuxian crouched down, running his hand over it. The mare within hummed, and he frowned upon feeling the strains of something connected to it.

(Like strings)

He ‘cut’ the connection, immediately feeling the source recoil. Without hesitating, he summoned chains of black sand, sending them right after the presence and chasing after it to the source. Bound in his sand was a mechanical black torso, stuck within the pond that lined the far side of the Tooth Fairy’s grove.

(Okay. This was starting to get more than a little weird.)

He paced forward and lightly flicked it out. The torso made a dent in the soft ground, producing the collective whirring of an incensed bee hive. The Night Mare within immediately reacted to his touch and he deftly severed the binding and called it loose.

“What did you just do?”

He glanced back, to find Jin Ling watched with narrowed eyes. Lan Sizhui dropped down beside him, glancing between them. He smiled charmingly.

“Just a little bit of fiddling. But while you’re down here, would you to mind breaking this thing apart?”

“Right,” Lan Sizhui immediately held out his staff as Jin Ling spluttered beside him. Frost spread across the mechanisms and the vibrating thing slowly wound to a halt, each joint frozen solid. Jin Ling still squinted at him suspiciously, but he nevertheless pulled up his bow and an arrow of sunlight formed at his fingers.

It exploded the entire mechanism on impact, which was slightly more grand than Wei Wuxian had intended, but not enough to distract him from his target. A small red light beeped slowly; lunar engineering combined with something a lot more vicious.

(This stupid Will _again?)_ __

Wen Ning did say it felt broken. Was it in pieces? Was that why it was so furious?

“Did you see anything?” he asked the Night Mare, but it just joined its companion cowering against him.

“Hey.”

He glanced around to find Jin Ling properly glaring at him. “How can you do that?”

“Do what? Be handsome?”

“NO!” Jin Ling scowled, “You can control Night Mares. And you use Black sand. The only Spirit who can do that is . . . is . . .”

He saw the moment it sunk in, his entire face contorting and he sighed internally.

He saluted, “Wei Wuxian, the Bogeyman. At your service.”

The only reason the next arrow didn’t go straight through him was because Sizhui lunged in between them, freezing it.

“Young Master Jin, please calm down!” The Spirit entreated, “He’s agreed to help us! Hanguang-Jun-”

“You _knew?!”_ The Summer Solstice screamed, and Lan Jingyi threw up his hands.

“Yeah, everyone fucking knew! We didn’t say anything because we knew you’d flip out!”

“Jingyi, don’t say that. Young Master Jin-”

“So, you know that _he_ ’s the one who cut off my mother’s wings!?!?”

(The small group went silent

Wei Wuxian felt like his entire body had been plunged into ice.)

Jin Ling bared his teeth, bow up and trembling.

“A-Ling.”

Jin Zixuan dropped down and his son stiffened, turning in indignation, “Dad, he’s-!”

“I know.”

“He’s the reason Mum-!”

“I _know_.”

“We all know.” Jiang Cheng dropped down next, scowling, “He’s a traitor who deserves to be forgotten.”

(Wei Wuxian winced, but hey, at least he knew where he stood with his broth-colleague. _Colleague.)_

Jin Ling just nodded in agreement with his Uncle.

“Exactly. Dad-!”

He cut himself off. Golden storm clouds were beginning to form above the Sandman’s head and Jin Ling immediately glared at his feet in acquiesce.

A hand dropped against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder and he startled, turning to see Lan Wangji at his side. The Guardian of Light was frowning at him, eyes creased, and he blinked, before smiling slightly in return.

“Don’t worry, Lan Zhan, I’m fine.”

“Did you find something?” Lan Xichen came down last, accompanied by Xiao Xingchen and the baby Tooth. Wei Wuxian just chucked the beacon towards him and the Saint deftly caught it.

“. . . This is?”

“It attracts Night Mares.” He whistled and strings of black sand formed around them. They all watched as the more natural movements became warped near it, funnelling down, “It’s probably how whoever planned this gathered so many.”

“Planted right in the heart of the Tooth Palace,” Lan Xichen handed it to the Tooth Fairy, “do you have any ideas who it might be?”

Xiao Xingchen hesitated, for the briefest of moments, before shaking his head, “No. I _know_ who can enter and exit this place. No one would do this.”

“It is kind of suspicious,” Wei Wuxian mused, legs swinging as he floated and they all turned to him.

“You think?!” Jiang Cheng snarled and he tutted.

“I mean, yes, but this happened right after you all tracked me down,” he entwined his fingers, “I came out in response to the hand, that show got you all together, and now this torso is here after the Tooth Palace has been attacked whilst you all just so happened to be away from your realms~”

That made it click, Xiao Xingchen straightening in surprise whereas Jin Zixuan looked as pinched as he always did whenever he felt like he’d been made into a fool.

“Yeah and what does that say about you?” Jiang Cheng was still scowling at him, “Doesn’t that just make you all the more guilty?”

“Not guilty.” Lan Wangji defended, voice bland, and Wei Wuxian glanced up at him in surprise, before turning to the rest of the Guardians.

“R-right, as Lan Zhan says, I’m not guilty - I’ve been with him the whole time. Besides, I _definitely_ don’t care for this-AH!”

The red static sparked as he poked it angrily, the only warning he got before it blasted apart and he was sent flying into the nearest wall.

(Whoever had made this fucking stuff was going to be in for the nightmare of their lives once he got his hands on them.)

“Wei Ying!”

“Senior Wei!”

Lan Wangji and Lan Sizhui were both immediately beside him, but he was surprised to find Jin Zixuan there as well, glaring at the now angrily spitting sand.

“Do you mind?”

“Be my guest,” He chucked it over, wincing as numbness tingled across his limbs and the headache throbbing in his temple just grew as the two members of the Lan Family helped him up.

The Sandman, meanwhile, had his eyes closed, golden threads orbiting the dark energy, pulling it apart slowly and methodically. 

“Do you recognise it?”

“Kind of,” Jin Zixuan formed a golden cage around it, blinking it away with a snap of his fingers, “I’ll need to check something first.”

Xiao Xingchen just let out a small, agitated sigh.

A-Qing squeezed his arm, before turning to glare at Jin Ling.

“And don’t think I missed what you said about our teeth! How’d you like it if I ruined Midsummer by knocking down Stonehenge?”

“You-!”

The two dissolved into squabbling and Lan Jingyi was quickly dragged in. Wei Wuxian drifted back as the Guardians gathered around Jin Zixuan, murmuring. All except Xiao Xingchen, who coasted down to the ground and picked up one of the few remaining teeth boxes, lips thin as he gently ran his hand over it.

“Hey.”

The Tooth Fairy looked up, smiling slightly, “Hello Wei Wuxian. It’s been a while.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, without all that much humour. Yeah. That was putting it lightly.

“I don’t understand though,” Lan Sizhui drifted down beside the pair of them, balancing within the crook of his shepherd’s staff, “why would they want the _teeth_?”

“It’s not the teeth they wanted,” Xiao Xingchen’s wings slumped, “it’s the memories contained inside them.”

Lan Sizhui blinked and Wei Wuxian huffed, holding up his palm. Black sand twirled around, children playing, dancing and all the rest of the good stuff.

“The teeth contain the most precious memories of childhood,” he explained on the Fairy’s behalf, “the things mortals cherish, value and believe in. As well as those that _shouldn’t_ be held unto.”

“Sometimes people forget what to remember and what to forget.” Xiao Xingchen gently lifted off, hovering over to the immense mural decorating the floors of the Palace. Even now, centuries in the future, it had remained, the Tooth Fairy and his people, facing the mortals, both reaching out their hands like some pre-Christian ‘Creation of Adam’.

Lan Sizhui walked behind him, feet freezing the water beneath, staff held against his back. The Tooth Fairy trailed a hand over the mural, fingers running across each and every tile.

“And when they forget? We help them to remember.” He huffed, sad yet still smiling in a way Wei Wuxian didn’t know he had missed, “We had everyone’s. Mine, all of the Guardians - even Wei Wuxian’s were here.”

Lan Sizhui blinked, turning to the Bogeyman in surprise. He nodded, lips tweaking up.

Xiao Xingchen rested a hand on the Spirit’s shoulder, “Yours too.”

Lan Sizhui stiffened. Wei Wuxian frowned slightly.

“My . . . _my_ memories?”

“Yes?” Xiao Xingchen tilted his head the side, “From before you were Jack Frost?”

The Spirit backed up slightly, immediately frowning and Wei Wuxian tilted his head, “Sizhui? You good?”

“No!” he cried, before settling down and exhaling, “I’m sorry, I mean, _no_ , you can’t have them. I wasn’t anyone before I was Jack Frost.”

“Well, of course you were. We were all someone before we were Chosen.” Xiao Xingchen’s forehead creased. Lan Sizhui clenched white hands around his staff.

“Y-y-you mean . . . I had . . . I was a _mortal_? I had a _family_?”

“You’ve truly forgotten . . .” The Tooth Fairy murmured, hand moving to cover his mouth. Lan Sizhui just trembled, turning around and stumbling into the air.

“Then . . . then we need to find them! I can-!”

“Easy there,” Wi Wuxian caught his jacket’s hood, “or have you forgotten that we currently have the teeth of about three whole people? Yours wouldn’t be here.”

He glanced over for confirmation and, sure enough, Xiao Xingchen was nodding. “I’m sorry. Yours are gone.”

Lan Sizhui just glanced between them, panicked, “Then can we get them back?!”

Xiao Xingchen smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure - _hnn_!!!”

They all startled, even the rest of Guardians over in their little circle, and the two Solstices arguing with the little Tooth.

A few of Xiao Xingchen’s rainbow coloured feathers twinkled as they drifted down into the pond, and Wei Wuxian and Lan Sizhui both lunged forward as he half dropped out of the air. The Tooth Fairy exhaled, taking a moment to shiver, as, after brief terrifying pause, his wings began to beat again.

“Your Majesty!” A-Qing immediately took to the air, zipping over to her leader and hovering anxiously around the trio. 

“It’s already beginning . . .” he merely whispered, trembling in their arms. His own hand reached back, gripping the mural. Under his touch, the colours began to crumple off, dust trickling off with each second, “we’re too late.”

“No!” Jiang Cheng slammed a fist into the nearest tree, before startling back as it just began disintegrating, “There’s no fucking way in can be this quick!”

“We need to find some way to delay it - just long enough for us to track down this invader,” Lan Xichen paced back and forth, hands running over his sword handles, “someway to keep up the tale . . .”

Wei Wuxian, in the process of switching his spot at Xiao Xingchen’s left arm with A-Qing, suddenly straightened up, clapping his hands together.

“Why don’t you guys collect the teeth?”

There was a solid moment of silence, as every face in the area turn to stare at him.

“. . . It could work.” Jin Zixuan mumbled into the silence. Xiao Xingchen immediately startled, wings fluttering erratically.

“WhAt?! We’re talking _seven_ continents, _millions_ of kids-”

“Oh come on,” Jiang Cheng began to grin, folding his arms, “do you _know_ how many eggs I hide in one day?”

“And presents I deliver in one night?” Lan Xichen added sweetly. His brother nodded.

“And, should we succeed, we’ll also retrieve Sizhui’s memories.”

The teenaged spirit was too pleased to know his outburst had reached his Mentor, entire body floating higher in glee.

Xiao Xingchen’s shoulders rose and A-Qing gripped his arm eagerly, a bright smile on her face.

The Summer Solstice just stood up and pointed his golden tipped bow. 

“Then what are you going to be doing?”

They all turned to the Bogeyman. He just shrugged, hands going behind his head.

“Hey, I thought you wanted me _out_ of kids’ bedrooms.”

“Your help would still be appreciated,” Lan Xichen said softly, even as Jiang Cheng visibly ground his teeth behind him. Wei Wuxian just laughed, hands up in defence.

“You know I’ll just bring Night Mares where I go. I’m going to go investigate this red sand - see if I can maybe get a lead on our brazen thief.”

“I’ll go with you.” Lan Wangji floated down to his side and he startled.

“A-a-ah? Really, Lan Zhan?”

“Mm. Not suited to this.”

“Excellent!” Lan Xichen chirped before Wei Wuxian could point out what a dumb argument that was, “Contact us as soon as you find something, Wangji. Your priority is finding the fairies.”

Lan Wangji nodded, and Wei Wuxian just felt his eye twitch.

(Wait, what was going on?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, huddled under air conditioning and cold packs: the writing Will be Done  
> Also me: hey if jack frost is about 5'5, and this is how he stacks up next to the sleigh, what is an equivalent sized vehicle to the sleigh?  
> my brother who is a Good Sport: probably a minibus?
> 
> WN: The Reaper  
> JGY: the Man in the Moon  
> LJY: Winter Solstice  
> JL: Summer Solstice  
> Song Lan: La Petite Souris ("part of the European division" except he ain't little)  
> A-Qing: Baby Tooth
> 
> Writing all of Jin Zixuan's emote-sand has made me realise how obvious he must have been when he was crushing on Jiang Yanli. Golden sandy hearts abound.  
> Also, he is definitely trying to prevent Jiang Cheng's influence from luring Jin Ling to behave like he did as a teenager because Damn It, Once was Embarrassing Enough!
> 
> I would like to thank everyone for indulging my niche interests and supporting this fic!!


	3. Vibe Check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 days till Christmas!!

The Guardians took the sleigh.

They had to because, as Xiao Xingchen kept on hyperventilating whilst A-Qing tried to calm him down, they had seven continents to cover, and a rough approximation of 300 million teeth to collect in a single night. Unfortunately, that meant Wei Wuxian found himself left alone with the Guardian of Light. He’d like to say it wasn’t awkward but who was he kidding, he hadn’t _seen_ Lan Wangji in 1300 years and now St. North was just expecting them to get along?

“Let’s go.”

“R-right.”

He waited for Lan Wangji to move and just found the Guardian watching him expectantly. Lan Wangji blinked.

“This was your idea.”

Had Lan Wangji gotten sarcastic in his old age? Wei Wuxian just exhaled.

“Of course it was my idea! I’m just thinking.” He turned away and heard a faint sigh behind him.

“Very well.”

He couldn’t react before an arm wrapped around his hips, and he found himself tugged up against Lan Wangji’s chest.

He stared up, mind buffering for a solid few moments, before he blinked back into focus. “Ah, Lan Zhan? You’re going to give someone the wrong impression.”

He _felt_ the sigh this time a rumble through Lan Wangji’s chest as the Guardian of Light floated up into the air, still carrying the Bogeyman in his arms. A faint whistle called twinkling lights into existence, dancing lanterns bouncing around them, and Wei Wuxian broke off the urge to tease in favour of watching in awe. The lights spun around them, faster and faster, until it all blinked out and the pair found themselves alone in the middle of a random street, the lamps all flickering on.

(Lan Wangji’s method of transport was always so beautiful) 

Realising he’d probably overstayed his welcome, he coughed, gave Lan Wangji’s shoulder a quick pat and hopped out of his arms, settling atop one of the lamp poles.

“Anyway! So, we need to find out someone who might be dabbling with the Night Mares and my sand, who has a realm big enough to hide the entire population of the Tooth Palace. Unfortunately we have absolutely no clue who that is.”

Lan Wangji nodded dutifully. “Then we should find someone who does.”

Wei Wuxian nodded back, before blinking as he suddenly realised that he _did_ actually know someone like that. Someone who made it their business to know everything.

“Hey, Lan Zhan, can you follow behind, but at like a distance? He won’t talk with you around.”

Lan Wangji frowned at him and he huffed.

“I’m not going to break free and go rampaging or whatever else you’re thinking of. I am genuinely pissed off about this - my Night Mares shouldn’t be interfered with. Once that’s sorted, my purpose here is done and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Lan Wangji looked even less pleased about that comment and sure, Wei Wuxian had a long history of, let’s be generous and call it _stretching_ the truth, but he really meant it!

“. . . Very well. But I will be close.”

That’s the best he was going to get, wasn’t it? He sighed.

“Very well. This shouldn’t take too long.”

With that he unfolded his legs and floated up into the sky to think.

See, the problem with Spirits who really only worked one day of the year, was that they spent _every other_ day holed up in their respective realms which he was, well, physically unable to enter without explicit permission. Still though, sometimes the ‘day’ itself was drawn out in spirit enough to draw out the _actual_ Spirit.

But which country . . . ah!

Satisfied, he tipped off the light pole, commanded a Night Mare to wait with a message for Lan Wangji and then dove into the nearest shadow.

Countries were nothing more than a hop, skip and jump away for Spirits so it barely took him a breath before he was popping up in the USA, floating up into the night and casting his senses wide.

Aha.

There he was.

“Evening, Nie-xiong~”

The Spirit of Halloween let out a rather high-pitched scream as he jumped upright, fan clattering from his hand and some variation of Trendy Hipster Latte spilling out all over the roof he’d been relaxing atop.

Wei Wuxian stayed silent, grinning, as the Spirit just stared dumbly up at him, before Nie Huaisang’s mouth tilted up.

“I’d heard you were back, Wei-xiong.”

He grinned, dropping down to throw his arms around one of the few Spirits who didn’t actively hate him. Nie Huaisang returned the embrace, eager, words gushing from his mouth.

“Ah, it’s been so long! How long since you came up? I heard you didn’t have any believers left, but that can’t be true because-”

“I have one whole ass believer.”

“No _way_ , I don’t think I could deal with that stress, I can barely handle Halloween as it is,” Nie Huaisang fanned himself with his hands, perking up as Wei Wuxian reached down to retrieve and hand back his actual fan. In the meantime, he gazed out over the festive street.

“Damn, isn’t it _April_? Why are they still dressing up?”

“Spring Halloween,” Nie Huaisang pouted, “I had enough work to do when it was just _one day_ but now a bunch of people refuse to put down the costumes during the _rest_ of the year! It’s so much more _work_ , Wei-xiong!”

“I am pretty impressed though,” both Spirits coasted up into the air, floating above the festivities. Wei Wuxian hovered without fear, whereas Nie Huaisang found the nearest tree to perch in, hidden from potential eyes below, “last time I looked, Halloween was slightly more about slaying monsters than using their image for arts and craft.”

“I suppose so,” Nie Huaisang’s fan fluttering slowed, ever so slightly, “well, you know what they say - the festivals reflects the Spirit as much as the Spirit reflects the festival.”

Wei Wuxian landed on a single branch, waiting for it to bend under his weight before folding his legs under him.

“I heard. I’m sure he’d be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

“Sure he’d be - the former leader of the Guardians replaced with someone too weak to even qualify as a trainee.”

“He wanted you to fight, but he still kept all those fans you made for him, didn’t he?”

Nie Huaisang just opened his own, hiding his face behind it for a moment. Wei Wuxian pulled off some of the leaves and absently thumbed them.

“. . . You’re not going to say ‘sorry for your loss’?”

“Do you want me too?” he glanced over, genuinely curious, “You never struck me as one to appreciate something so hollow.”

Nie Huaisang’s lips curled as he inspected the fan, “I guess. The support was nice, for a bit, until it started coming from those who didn’t care in the first place.”

“The Moon is composed of nothing but a bunch of assholes,” he agreed whole-heartedly and Nie Huaisang actually snickered, his gaze thoughtful.

“Well, at least don’t take me for an asshole when I say I’m sorry about your last believers.”He paused, glancing over in surprise and mildly touched, “They were mortals. I knew they’d die eventually.”

“You still cared about them like family,” Nie Huaisang responded, and he couldn’t stop his mouth tilting down, “losing family hurts.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, before sighing, weight dragging at his shoulders, “No one’s arguing with you there.”

They both watched over the festivities in silence, before Wei Wuxian let out a decisive huff, shaking out his shoulders and floating back up to his feet.

“Well, now that all the depressing stuff’s done with,” he rolled onto his back in midair, grinning at Nie Huaisang’s now ‘upside down’ face, “have you noticed anything odd recently?”

“You mean, aside from the fact that I’m talking to the Bogeyman?”

“Yeah, odd like sightings of lunar clockwork, or rabid Wills~?”

Nie Huaisang was sending him a squint which perfectly encapsulated ‘why’, ‘what the fuck sort of nonsense is this’ and ‘if this is another of your shenanigans, Wei Wuxian, I want out’ in a way he thought only Madam Yu had been able to achieve.

So, he just pressed his hands together, jutted out his lower lip and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Completely not related to shenanigans.”

Nie Huaisang’s face moved to ‘doubt’.

“Hey, I’m acting on behalf of Hanguang-Jun, you know! Full authority!”

Nie Huaisang blinked, “Wait . . . Wei-xiong are you . . . working _with_ the Guardians?”

He pouted, righting up and dropping an elbow against his crossed legs, “Is it that unbelievable?”

The Spirit of Halloween nodded fervently, “Er, yes? You were always far more an active antagonist than a neutral party.”

Wei Wuxian snorted.

“Well, don’t worry, it’s all very teeth clenched, but it’s still totally legit! Soooooo~?”

The other just huffed, bringing his fan back, “Why me, then?”

“Spooky stories is your domain, isn’t it? I bring the actual spook, but I don’t hear anything if it ain’t about me~”

Nie Huaisang just hummed, pressing the tip of the fan against his lip, “Well . . . it could be nothing, but there’s been surge of Night Mares in the cities just north of here.”

He frowned, “A surge?”

“Mm,” Nie Huaisang nodded carefully, “Now, I’m not being accusatory, but more Night Mares-”

“And eerie happenings always go hand in hand.”

He closed his eyes, throwing out his reach.

And immediately frowned.

_Static._

Nie Huaisang just squeaked at the look on his face, “Is that, err, a hit?”

“Maybe,” he frowned, “hey, do you know who could be messing with Night Mares?”

His companion stayed suspiciously silent and he glanced over, “. . . Nie-xiong?”

“I wouldn’t know,” the other one said hastily, hiding behind his fan. “I really wouldn’t know.”

“. . . Sure. Anyway, thanks for the clue - see ya around some time!”

He waved, received a tentative fan flutter in response, and then soared off through the night. It wasn’t hard to track down Lan Wangji, though he did pause for a moment. The Guardian of Light was resting in the crown of a tree, watching down fondly as a small group of kids ran about their street waving sparklers.

“Aww, Lan Zhan, you look so cute~” he cooed, dropping down beside him, being careful not to rustle the branches. Lan Wangji just turned his head away, a red tinge to his ears.

“I . . . have not had a moment like this for a while. It is nice to be around children again.”

“Oh?” he crossed his legs and tilted his head, “How long since you’ve properly been out in the field?”

“. . . Four hundred and fifty-seven years.”

He choked, “Wait, then how long has it been since you’ve hung out with kids?”

“. . . Longer.”

“Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, isn’t your whole thing about bringing Light? How are you meant to do that if you don’t _go_ anywhere?”

“There are too many festivals each year. I must remain in the North to manage them all.” He was still not meeting Wei Wuxian’s eyes, embarrassed tinge growing, “I bring light to all children. I can’t spare the time . . .”

“For children?” Wei Wuxian just drawled, and the Guardian ignored him, a trace petulantly.

“Where?” he switched the topic and Wei Wuxian huffed.

“We’re heading north - big surge of Night Mares,” he wafted into the air, moving up to the nearest roof and calling a Mare. The Guardian of Light matched mutely as he swung up, reins forming in his hands.

“You coming?”

Lan Wangji blinked, “They . . . do not mind?”

“Of course not!” his Mare whinnied in agreement and the Guardian of Light padded forward. Rather impressively, the Mare beneath him didn’t so much as stamp in response. Well, Lan Wangji really was one of the bravest - he couldn’t imagine the other felt all that much fear for the Mare to sniff out. In recognition, he held out his hand.

After a moment, Lan Wangji took it and allowed himself to be lifted up, sat side saddle across the black creature, robes arranged delicately around him. Wei Wuxian just laughed in front.

“Ah, come on, Lan Zhan, you’re going to fall off like that,” he reached back, caught Lan Wangji’s hand and then pulled it forward, wrapping both around his waist, “you have to hold on, yeah?”

Slowly, Lan Wangji exhaled and the Night Mare huffed, tossing its head, “. . . Mm.”

“Nice and tight.”

“Mm.”

Those beautiful hands tightened and Wei Wuxian felt that warm body press right up against his back.

“Well, in that case,” he clenched his knees, “here we go!”

The Night Mare threw up its head before bursting forward, black sand exploding around its hooves as it galloped across the roof and took off straight into sky. Lan Wangji just gripped tighter, but Wei Wuxian made sure the Mare didn’t go too vertical as it climbed up, cantering across the night sky, a trail of shadow and light behind them.

He let out a clear whistle and felt Lan Wangji straighten up slightly as a whole herd of Mares rose up to join them.

“Find the disturbance - lead us to it!” he ordered over the wind and they all brayed and raced ahead, the one they were riding locking on and narrowing its route.

He was just shifting their speed to faster when the hands moved from his waist, one coming to balance against his shoulder, and he glanced back.

Lan Wangji was sitting up properly, eyes wide as he gazed around.

“Amazed, Lan Zhan? You’ve probably come this high before, haven’t you?”

“Yes . . . yet it is different.”

“I know right?” He grinned and leant forward to whisper in the Mare’s ear. “Let’s show him what we can _really_ do.”

The Mare tossed its head in glee and Lan Wangji sucked in as they shot forward through the night.

The other Mares ended up bringing them down in a small sprawling town. It was quaint, decently suburban, with a small park right in the centre. As he pulled them to a stop atop one of the multi-storeyed buildings, Lan Wangji was already gazing around, eyes narrow.

“Can you sense anything, Lan Zhan?” he asked, swinging off and holding up a hand to help the Guardian down.

(The Night Mare immediately shrunk to the size of his waist, circling his body for pats)

Lan Wangji just slowly shook his head, “It is something, but it is hiding from the light.”

“No wonder,” he dismissed his Mare, and the pair floated up off the ground and began tracing the city, “but I must say, you’ve very much impressed this XianXian, Lan Zhan. I thought you couldn’t stand being within five metres of my Night Mares. You’d always rile them up so much.”

Lan Wangji remained silent for a moment.

“I . . . was scared.”

“Well, yes, that _is_ the requisite.”

“For you,” Lan Wangji stated simply. Wei Wuxian paused, stopping midair and letting the night wind pick up his hair.

“Well, yeah. That’s fair.” He huffed and planted his hands on his hips, “I was really out of control back then, wasn’t I?”

Lan Wangji just turned away and kept going. Wei Wuxian blinked, coasting up to join his side, “Oi, come on Lan Zhan, normally you’re so quick to agree. Why the sudden silence?”

Lan Wangji sighed, too quietly to hear, but enough to move his shoulders, “. . . Wei Ying, I-”

They both stiffened, straightening up and glancing across.

“Did you-?”

“I felt it too.”

The Guardian of Light drew his sword and it lit up with a bright glow. At his side, Wei Wuxian held out his hand and his Scythe came quickly. Both padded forwards, silent, before jumping down and Wei Wuxian’s eyes flashed red. The park flattened out in a wave of black sand and a faint yelp echoed back. 

Lan Wangji huffed and sheathed his blade. Wei Wuxian groaned, absently calling back his sand.

“Jin Ling, come out.”

There was a moment of silence, and then the Spirit of the Summer Solstice shuffled out. Wei Wuxian ran fingers through his hair.

“Can we help you?”

The Spirit kept staring at his feet. “. . . followed you.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that~”

Jin Ling’s head flicked up in a snarl at the tone, glaring, “I said I followed you! Happy?”

Wei Wuxian snickered, and the younger Spirit’s face went ever redder. Beside him, Lan Wangji’s head tilted slightly to the side.

“Abandoned your post.” The Guardian of Light’s voice was veritably frigid and his subordinate flinched, immediately defensive.

“I got permission!”

Lan Wangji kept staring at him. Jin Ling glanced away.

“. . . I’ll _get_ permission.”

“Unbefitting of a Guardian.” Lan Wangji floated up off the ground, “Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian jolted, hurrying up after him and watching as the Summer Solstice stomped away in a flash of light.

“Ah, ah, Lan Wangji, you know he’s probably not going to leave.”

Lan Wangji turned to stare at him. Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but sigh. This Guardian beside him really needed to get out and experience the current world a bit.

“He’s not going to go back now that you’ve taken so much of his face - he’d be far too embarrassed.”

“He is in training to be a Guardian,” Lan Wangji frowned, “He should respect orders.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you have no clue how kids his age think. He’ll try to make us respect him - he won’t just follow orders.”

“. . . Sizhui follows orders.”

Wei Wuxian let out a faint laugh, turning his head away, “Ah, that’s because your little Jack Frost is a dutiful one for sure.”

“Mm.”

He began coasting over the night breeze, his eyes passing through the town. Lan Wangji kept to his speed, barely moving more than a metre apart.

Wei Wuxian absently rolled onto his back, swinging his legs. “Is he yours?”

Lan Wangji turned, questioning and he sighed.

“Not as in your trainee, but like your kid.”

“. . . Yes.”

“Oh,” that tugged something in him, but he wasn’t sure what. It had been 1300 - it wasn’t that surprising for Lan Wangji had decided to settle down, “your wife?”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes, slightly weary, “I do not have one.”

“O-oh,” he winced. That expression screamed of being asked the question too many times and he decided that maybe now was a good time to shut up.

Surprisingly, it was Lan Wangji that broke the silence.

“Sizhui is like you.”

He straightened up, turning in surprise. Like him? 

Lan Wangji was already walking past him and Wei Wuxian absently followed along.

Like him, huh?

(Teeth clawing, biting, chewing, mud turning red and

and then you wake up again.)

He stopped.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji stilled, quickly moving back beside him, “I am sorry. Do not think-”

“No.” He held up a hand, listening, “They found something.”

“Where?”

“The far east side. A herd of them. They’re fighting something - I think it’s Jin Ling. Huh. That was the quick.”

“Sunlight will find even the most elusive of shadows.” Lan Wangji sighed, and drew his sword as his lights flickered on around them.

Wei Wuxian waved cheerily at the darkness.

“Let’s show them the way, shall we dears?”

The shadows danced and wove, deepened by the flickering light. Within a blink, they were both floating above a ridge, built into the side of the mountain.

An ancient mausoleum, probably dating back a millennium, cracked clean open. With a herd of Night Mares around it.

Wei Wuxian glanced around, “Where’s Jin Ling?”

Lan Wangji just twisted his blade and swung it. Tongues of fire leapt free, dancing through the night sky and burning their way through the horde. The Guardian of Light sheathed his blade at the end of the single swing.

“My apologies.”

“From dreams to sand to dreams again,” Wei Wuxian shrugged, “the existence of Night Mares is too cyclical to mourn the loss of each. It is honourable to purify them.”

“Mm.”

The pair of them walked forward, up to the small mausoleum. Wei Wuxian ran his hand over the old stones, squinting at the faded writing.

“. . . Do not disturb . . . foul curses be upon yada yada . . .”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji sighed, and he grinned.

“You read these sorts of things once, and you’ve read them all.” He straightened up and stretched out his back, sending his companion a beaming smile, “Sides, I’m probably the worst thing in there.”

Lan Wangji let out a small little huff and then calmly floated down through the cracked stone. Wei Wuxian stared after him.

Did.

Did Lan Wangji just _laugh_?

Did Lan Wangji just laugh at one of _his_ jokes?

(What was going on?)

With a weary sigh, he followed in after him. The Guardian had unsheathed his sword, holding it up to light their way.

“Look. These writings are new.”

Wei Wuxian coasted closer and then sighed. “Lan Zhan, that’s just graffiti.”

Lan Wangji turned to him, curious. He waved his arms around.

“It’s probably just a bunch of teenagers, who broke in on a dare.”

“This is a place for the dead,” Lan Wangji frowned, “they are desecrating it.”

“Yeah, that’s sort of the definition of graffiti,” he put his hands up behind his head, “Lan Zhan~ You really haven’t embraced the modern world have you?”

“It is unfitting to interact with mortals.”

“Maybe,” he tilted his head, knew the shadows of the tomb pulled at his hair and his face and his eyes, “but it says something that I’m the one who knows this stuff when I’m the one who spent the last 1300 years all alone.”

Lan Wangji took a small step, as if to approach him when a sea of hands suddenly stretched out from the walls. The Guardian immediately turned, blade lighting up and burning through all he struck. Wei Wuxian just clicked his fingers and the hands burst apart into sand.

“Someone is here.”

“No,” he reached down and thumbed some of the black sand, “Someone _was_ here and they set a trap. They’re trying to scare us. Trap us in a Night Mare.”

Lan Wangji frowned and Wei Wuxian glanced over, “That mean anything to you?”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji waved a hand and the sand all blew apart, fading away so no mortal could find it, “when we leave, ask me about Xue Yang.”

“You got it~”

They reached the end of the underground path, which terminated at a long winding staircase. Both Spirits simply floated down through the centre of the roughly cut steps, eyeing what lay beneath. Spreading out before them was a small little room, occupied by nothing have for a single coffin, gilt in ancient bronze.

They shared a look, grasped one end each and hauled it open.

The first (and most important) thing they observed was Jin Ling, prone in the coffin, eyes open and unseeing, his power network fluctuating about him.

Wei Wuxian dragged him out with a cry, immediately pulling him to the ground and checking his pulse, exhaling shakily to find the circuits still stable, just suppressed.

The second thing they observed were two mechanical legs, because they immediately lurched after him, clearly intent on dragging the Summer Solstice back into the coffin.

_Bichen_ severed them clean through right before they hit him and Lan Wangji’s eyes glowed. Light flared from the blade and the Will within thrashed in response. Wei Wuxian whistled deftly and the two Night Mares were cut free, the two legs immediately falling prone.

Two of the little red beacons still flashed in each.

“We need to get out of here.” Wei Wuxian reached for Lan Wangji’s wrist, deciding circumstance outweighed the possible anger Lan Wangji might have at traversing through shadow, but the other one held up a hand.

“Lan Zhan?”

The Guardian of Light swept back his sleeves and crouched down, running porcelain fingers through almost 1000 years of dust on the coffin’s side, a simple engraving poking out beneath.

The third thing they observed was the immense blade Jin Ling had been resting above, because its name was spelt in bronze letters that still held up.

Lan Wangji read it out anyway.

“Baxia.”

“I don’t understand.”

The two stepped out from the darkness, Jin Ling breathing evenly in Wei Wuxian’s arms.

“Why wouldn’t Nie Huaisang tell us this is where he buried his brother’s sword? And why were Night Mares guarding it?”

“We-”

The Summer Solstice’s eyes snapped open and Lan Wangji fell silent as he glanced up at the two of them.

With a yelp, the young Spirit tumbled out of Wei Wuxian’s arms and summoned his bow. Lan Wangji immediately stepped in front of Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling faltered, before sticking his chin up.

“What did you do to me?!”

“Nothing,” Wei Wuxian arched an eyebrow, comfortably clinging to Lan Wangji’s very safe back, “unless you count hauling you _out_ from potential entombment as harmful in some way.”

“You were disruptive.” Lan Wangji added and Jin Ling frowned. Wei Wuxian tutted.

“Buuut, you did find those Night Mares before us. Maybe just alert us the next time round.”

Jin Ling stiffened, glancing up at him with a, oh bless was that a pleased flush to his face? He immediately glanced up away again.

“I got ambushed by a wave of sand. How do I know you weren’t responsible?”

“Wei Ying is innocent.”

“Besides the Night Mares were like the ones at the Tooth Palace,” he allowed a small vein of his irritation to bleed through, “overtaken by red static.”

“More are coming,” Lan Wangji added, “we’re going.”

“We found the legs buried alongside you!”

“Wha-buried?!”

“Come, come, let’s go!” Wei Wuxian went to leave, but a hand at his wrist stopped him. “Lan Zhan?”

“We were wrong,” Lan Wangji’s voice darkened, “the tomb was not the trap.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him, before turning his head out towards the rest of the city. Lurking over the roofs, through the streets, behind every corner, nook and alley, a sea of Night Mares padded out, stretching out farther than the ends of the city.

Jin Ling gripped his elbow. “They’re . . . they’re yours, right?”

_Static_.

Wei Wuxian slowly shook his head. “Nope.”

Lan Wangji drew his sword. Jin Ling called his bow. 

Wei Wuxian summoned Wen Ning.

They barely had the moment to throw up barriers before the sea crashed down onto them.

“How are we going Xingchen?”

The Tooth Fairy, resting atop a chest of drawers in the bedroom of a six-year-old boy in the south of Rio de Janeiro, glanced up as Jin Zixuan appeared beside him, careful not to step on the very complex and likely very loud tower of Lego occupying the floor.

Xiao Xingchen beamed, wings fluttering, “Feeling believed in!”

A-Qing, sitting on his shoulder in fairy form, swung her legs happily.

“Good,” Jiang Cheng hopped out from his tunnel, “because I’m running out of gifts to leave.”

“I can’t believe you started leaving the eggs.”

“Hey, I’m better than Zewu-Jun. He left a whole tree in one person’s bedroom.”

“We’re breaking so many secrecy rules,” Xiao Xingchen mused.

“I think I’ve been seen by at least three people,” Jin Zixuan agreed mournfully. The Tooth Fairy giggled.

“Well, it’s good to see you in a cheery mood again,” Lan Xichen joined last, slipping in through the window, “we’ve done well, it seems.”

“I reckon we could regroup with Lan Wangji by now,” Jin Zixuan held up his bag of teeth, “we’ve made a pretty good haul.”

“You call that a good haul?” Jiang Cheng flashed his own bag, competitive smile in place because of course it was, “How’s this for a haul?”

(It was bigger than his own, Jin Zixuan ceded with a slight frown)

“Everyone,” Lan Xichen interceded, “This is about helping Xingchen. It is not a competition. Besides, I won.”

He dumped his huge sack right in the middle of them all, on top of the stack of Lego and they all watched blandly as the tower came crashing down.

Jin Zixuan turned to the illustrious Santa Claus.

“Sometimes, I genuinely wonder if you have a brain up there.”

Lan Xichen just beamed brightly and then a torch flickered on and they found themselves subject to the open-mouthed gaze of the young child.

Xiao Xingchen smiled as sweetly as he could.

“Surprise!”

“Knock him out.” Jiang Cheng immediately elbowed his brother-in-law and Jin Zixuan cracked his neck and slammed his fist into his palm.

The kid’s dumbfounded look of awe faltered.

“With the _Dreamsand_ , you moron.”

“Oh. Right.” He called a small ball of golden sand to his hand and prepared to cast it out.

The window slammed open.

“Guys, we lost Jin Ling!” Lan Jingyi yelled in and about five voices all yelled back in surprise, Xiao Xingchen knocked into the Sandman and he grunted as the ball went flying. The Guardians all tried to scatter, but it rebounded off a mirror and slammed straight into Jiang Cheng’s forehead, knocking against Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing’s next, before soaring of the bed and finally smashing into Lan Xichen’s face.

The kid could only watch in astonishment as the four hit the deck hard, and Jin Zixuan took the moment to waft over and quickly blow onto his face, knocking him out for some pleasant dreams about oh fuck that would hopefully be forgotten by morning.

Still in the window, the Winter Solstice gazed over the sea of golden teeth, eggs and candy canes, lips firmly pressed together.

“. . . Whoops?”

Jin Zixuan rolled his eyes, “What was this about A-Ling?”

“We think he went off after Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei . . .” Lan Sizhui appeared in the window, staring around the completely comatose room with wide eyes. Jin Zixuan could feel his storm clouds returning and absently ran a hand through them, turning to the two trainees.

“Go after him - he shouldn’t have abandoned . . . his . . .” his voice trailed off.

Both the trainees blinked and spun around to see what he was gazing at.

Spread out across the sky, the Northern Lights bloomed. Lan Sizhui lofted into the air immediately.

“That’s Hanguang-Jun’s emergency signal!”

“A-LING!”

Wei Wuxian rode hard, a black blur through the streets. Around him, his own herd hissed angrily at the corrupted ones, their anger mirroring his own, but too few compared to the ones surrounding them.

He clicked his tongue.

“WEN NING!”

He held up his Scythe and the blade stretched out across the other end, mirrored at the base and he let the immense chakram fly. The fully linked sphere of shadow roared its way through the corrupted Night Mares and in the opening, his own Mare roared up and into the open sky, a wave of black on his tail.

(Yeesh, having his own powers used against him was a bit of an eye-opener. He was starting to realise why the Council had found him so annoying all those years ago.)

Above him, the Guardian of Light shone like a beacon, his whole body aglow as his sword cut into wave after wave of Night Mares, each blow just enraging them all the more.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian directed his mount higher, soaring past the horde of incensed Night Mares. “Grab on!”

Lan Wangji glanced back, quickly sticking up a hand. Wei Wuxian snatched it and hauled him up.

“Down, down!” he yelled over the screams around them and the Mare howled, furiously dropping out of the sky. Lan Wangji shifted behind him and twirled his blade. _Bichen_ ’s light blazed and a wall of fire tore through their pursuers, more just falling in behind.

“Where’s Jin Ling?!” he called, feeling a hand pointing at his shoulder and not waiting any longer to plunge into the trees. A slight ripple caught his attention and he held up a hand invitingly.

The chakram tore through the trees on the path back to him, shifting back into a scythe just in time to collide with his palm. He felt Lan Wangji duck and immediately whirled his weapon above him, disintegrating the Night Mares trying to ram into his.

One bowled out of the trees, right in front of them and he yelped, almost thrown by the collision if not for Lan Wangji snatching his wrist.

“Higher!” the Guardian ordered, and the Night Mare, soared upwards. High above, golden arrows fired, one after the other, as the hugest unit just narrowed their circle around Jin Ling all the more tighter.

He’d kept up his golden barrier, but the group surrounding him was forming a veritable storm of shadow and black sand.

(Why?)

“Go!” Wei Wuxian ordered, flinging his weapon once more. It shifted once again, a discus tearing through the Night Mares, doing all the work of removing a couple of straws from a hay barrel. Lan Wangji stood up, and twirled his sword, his own powers helping the Spirit of Death and doing just as little.

(Why Jin Ling?)

“Wei Ying!”

He glanced back, in time to find their own pursuers right at their toes, baring forward, and he desperately reached for his shadows, Lan Wangji’s arm going around his body-

The Night Mares exploded into showers of gold and he exhaled, panting, glancing up.

Atop one of the buildings, Jin Zixuan repositioned the sand-formed gatling gun and tore apart a whole sea of the Night Mares with golden bullets.

“What’s going on?!” he roared, and Wei Wuxian urged his mount to go up and join him.

“Jin Ling!” he screamed. “They want Jin Ling!”

Jin Zixuan, to his credit, just tightened his jaw, shifted his gatling gun into a biplane and went flying up towards the nightmarish cloud covering the sky.

Lan Sizhui dropped down beside them, Lan Jingyi gazing around with wide, horror struck eyes.

“The others are on their way!”

“What’s _happening_ here?”

“Fuck if we know,” Wei Wuxian held up a hand to catch his scythe, wincing upon feeling the heavy strains of fatigue leaking off Wen Ning.

(“Do you need to stop?”

“Not yet. Soon, but not yet.”)

He clung tighter, face set and grim. Lan Wangji pointed his sword to the storm above.“Assist Jin Zixuan.”

“Yes sir!”

Both Spirits took off into the air, blue magic soaring out from Lan Sizhui’s staff to clear the way.

That just left them to hold off the rest. 

Lan Wangji cracked his neck and held up his sword. Wei Wuxian held his scythe at the ready.

“I’ll take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right?”

Lan Wangji sent him a slow look, “. . . Stay behind.”

Wei Wuxian let out a faint chuckle, before preparing to take off.

Sleigh bells sounded above him, and he glanced back just in time to see a rainbow blur streak past him, disintegrating a whole wave of Night Mares. Before they could turn and regroup, purple lightning streaked through them all, bombs of colourful smoke cutting them off sharply. Lan Wangji caught his waist and they both went soaring upwards, landing on the wings of the sleigh.

Lan Xichen’s two blades tore through the storm, his usual geniality gone as he twirled them like ribbons.

“Get higher,” Jiang Cheng’s voice was dark with worry as he easily leapt up, flicking his whip over this shoulder to annihilate the nearest Night Mares, “they’ll pay if they think they can tangle with A-Ling.”

“I’m trying,” Lan Xichen put his back to his brother’s and the Twin Jades spun around each other, obliterating the Night Mares trying to obstruct them, “but they don’t want us going up.”

Wei Wuxian clenched his eyes shut, ears shut to the chaos, trying to reach out.

_Blocked_

_Blocked_.

He ground his teeth and looked up.

(Why were they targeting Jin Ling?)

The Summer Solstice let out a cry above, as a Night Mare verged dangerously close to the golden barrier protecting him. Jin Zixuan whistled and the sands around him changed once more, an immense hawk melting through the storm to catch the Summer Solstice in its talons and haul him out to safety, right into the waiting protection of Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi.

Leaving the Sandman all alone.

Wei Wuxian straightened, and horror filled him.

(No.

They weren’t targeting Jin Ling)

He didn’t see the strike, didn’t see a bullet.

He just saw the Sandman stumble, gasp barely audible so high up as his hand flew to his chest. A golden chest now stained black, spreading out like spilt ink.

(Just like-

Just like-

JuSt LiKE-

_“. . . A-Xian . . .?”_ )

He didn’t know who screamed, how many screamed. The world blurred around him and only Lan Wangji’s hand on his kept him from falling off the sleigh. Xiao Xingchen soared up past them, trying to fight through the Night Mares as Jin Zixuan dropped out of the sky.

(Blue light sparked)

Jin Ling’s scream covered the night sky and Lan Sizhui’s magic harmonised with it. Blue light burst across the storm, the Spirit’s body white with power as it released in an uncontrolled fury, streaking through every single Night Mare in the cloud and shattering them in a rain of ice.

The sounds of chaos vanished with the clicking of ice crystals.

Jin Ling barely caught the Winter Spirit as unconsciousness tugged at him.

Lan Jingyi soared over and caught them both, leading them down to the sleigh and Xiao Xingchen wasted no time in catching the Sandman.

“Since when have you been able to do _that_?” Lan Jingyi stared at his cousin in shock. Lan Sizhui just blinked, power network virtually spent, as he gazed nervously at his mentor.

“I didn’t know I could.”

They were interrupted as Xiao Xingchen landed between them all, Jin Zixuan’s unconscious body in his arms, the black stain covering his whole torso. Jin Ling broke out of his daze to scramble closer with a cry.

Wei Wuxian dropped beside them both, fingers out, trying to draw out the dark poison.

_Blocked_

_Static_

_“Hehehe~”_ __

(He froze)

_“You really think it’d be that easy~? What a let down. Guess you really should never meet your heroes!”_

Pain lashed back at him and he recoiled, screaming, burning pain radiating throughout his entire body.

He could feel hands on his shoulder, voices in his ears and he desperately clutched them like lifelines, all too late as his body gave up and burst apart into a shower of black sand.

Wei Wuxian slowly blinked his eyes open, groaning.

He was lying prone in a warm bed, blankets tucked up around him and his entire body had been cushioned and supported. A roaring fire filled the room with a homely, wooden smell, complimented by the aroma of gingerbread and berry that seemed to have sunk into the walls.

He was back at the Workshop.

He blinked properly, sitting up in the bed, only to realise Lan Wangji was leaning against the bed, sleeping at his side. He almost froze up, scared to disturb the sleeping Guardian, but he must have made some noise because those lantern eyes were soon flickering open. Lan Wangji blinked at him for a moment, before he straightened, eyes widening.

“Wei Ying!”

“Hey, Lan Zhan.” He smiled wanly as those delicate hands clutched his, checking his pulse and magical circuits, “I think I’m fine.”

“. . . Mm.” Lan Wangji’s voice shook as he laid down the hand, moving his seat closer to press a hand against his forehead.

“How did you guys get me back to the Workshop?”

(How was he intact again?)

“Wen Qionglin,” Lan Wangji’s voice raw slightly tighter, “He . . . regathered you. Jiang Wanyin was . . . upset by his presence.”

Wei Wuxian winced, before a thought darkened his mood even more.

“And . . . what about Jin Zixuan?”

Lan Wangji didn’t react, “He is still asleep.”

“Is he okay?”

“The contamination hasn’t been removed. But it is not spreading like-”

He cut himself off, glancing away and Wei Wuxian felt like someone had just tightened the knot around his heart.

(Like what happened to Jin Zixun. Like what almost happened to Jiang Yanli)

“I didn’t do it,” he veritably whimpered, “You know that, right Lan Zhan? I wouldn’t-”

“I know,” Lan Wangji assured him, complete confidence and the amount of relief in infused him with was probably worrying. “The others also agree.”

A bit more surprising and he tilted his head.

“. . . Really?”

“Jin Ling spoke for you.”

He blinked, but his next words were cut off by the ringing of huge bells, tolling throughout the whole of the workshop. Lan Wangji frowned, glancing back.

“Go.”

The Guardian of Light blinked turning back and Wei Wuxian smiled, “It’s calling you all, right? You should go.”

“Wei Ying-”

“I’ll be fine. I won’t go anywhere.” he squeezed Lan Wangji’s hand, “We’re counting on you guys, yeah?”

Lan Wangji just looked at him, long and piercing. As the twelfth toll rang out, he reached forward and gently tucked some of Wei Ying’s loose hair behind his face.

“Wei Ying is also dependable.”

Wei Wuxian’s brain froze, a long stream of buffering as the Guardian got out and walked out of the room, closing the door silently behind him. He didn’t even register the black sand gathering beside him.

“. . . Master Wei?”

“Yes?!” he yelped, glancing sideways, to spy Wen Ning watching him slightly unimpressed.

“I think Mo Xuanyu’s right - you _do_ like him.”

“Nonsense,” he shook himself out, voice breezy, “never mind that though. Jiang Cheng didn’t hurt you?”

He obligingly held out a hand and Wen Ning deftly took it, running fingers over his wrist and checking his circuits with a level of detail only he was truly capable of.

“. . . It was nothing.”

Wei Wuxian frowned.

Wen Ning gently transferred some of his own power through and Wei Wuxian exhaled in relief as the faint aches across his body lessened, “Master Wei . . . what happened?”

“I don’t know,” he clenched his jaw, “but whoever is doing this - the corrupted Night Mares, the ambush - they’re getting far more brazen.”

Wen Ning’s frown matched his own, but he still rested Wei Wuxian’s arm back down.

“That should be fine. Please take it ease . . . ssy and you’re already getting up.”

He winked, “I won’t go far, promise. I just need to think about some stuff and this room’s a bit warm for me.”

Wen Ning nodded, distinctly humouring him before dispersing and Wei Wuxian huffed, leaving the small room.

Far above, the Guardians were discussing what to do next, sombre on the balcony overlooking the North Pole’s immense globe and he knew he had no place there. Instead, he wandered through the Workshop without any direction in mind.

(How long had it been?)

He had truly been intending on just hiding in the shadows until Lan Wangji came to fetch him, but the sight of a small figure curled up against a window had him pausing.

“Sizhui?”

The Winter Spirit jolted, turning around and pulling his hood off his head.

“Senior Wei, you’re up!” he greeted, bowing his head. Wei Wuxian returned the bow, not bothering to ask about the pictures the frost had formed against the windowpane. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know, they’re all up their talking about Big Guardian Stuff. None of my business.”

“Right, of course,” Lan Sizhui blinked, “I keep forgetting you’re not a Guardian.”

“What would I be the Guardian of, huh? Terror? Anxiety? That all consuming cold grip on the stomach that makes people collapse and renders them incapable of doing anything?”Lan Sizhui looked like a deer in headlights and he grinned, “I’m joking, kid. Relax.”

“. . . O-okay,” Lan Sizhui twisted in place, and Wei Wuxian ever so cautiously flicked out his senses.

Everyone had fear after all, and this kid was reeking of it.

“You did great out there,” he offered and Lan Sizhui startled slightly, before colour flooded into his cheeks.

“Not really . . . I couldn’t help Jin Zixuan. I only-”

“Stood up to that storm? Saved us all?” he intruded and Lan Sizhui blinked. “You’ve got something pretty special inside you, Sizhui. The Guardians all know that. Try remembering it yourself.”

For a moment, he thought the Spirit was going to flush again, and was pleasantly surprised when he smiled back instead.

“You say that, but I don’t think you ever needed saving, Senior Wei.”

“Aiyoh, where are you hearing such things?” he huffed, floating up to sit cross-legged in the air, “This one is very delicate, you know. If it weren’t for the kind and caring Guardian order, I would have long been offed.”

“Of course,” Lan Sizhui smiled diplomatically, and Wei Wuxian felt mollified by the way his shoulders had straightened out, eyes livening.

Something crashed above them, the hint of raised voices reaching even this far down.

Lan sSizhui’s happiness shrunk, “I guess things are really bad.”

“Of course - one good hit and we’ve lost Dreams entirely.” Wei Wuxian sighed, “It’s tipped a balance, and that’s going to very hard to reverse now that our enemy has picked up momentum.”

“I can’t believe it . . .” Lan Sizhui clutched his arms, “Barely a month ago, everything was fine and now Zewu-Jun can barely hold himself upright.”

“Yeah, that’s how it always goes.” Wei Wuxian guided him back out from the corner he’d sequestered himself away in, the pair moving around one of the workshop’s lower levels, “Msortals are great, Sizhui. But they’re also easily swayable little shits. As soon as they doubt once, they’ll only be too ready to doubt the rest.”

“It’s our job to protect them, regardless,” Lan Sizhui affirmed, and Wei Wuxian shrugged.

“Maybe. But it’s hard when you’ve tied yourself to that belief. Unless we get a victory, then you’ll probably become the most powerful person here. And it won’t be because _your_ power _grew._ ”

Lan Sizhui frowned. “Senior Wei, I . . . I want to go talk to the Guardians. If I can help fight in their stead . . .”

“Yeah, go on.” He grinned, “Fetch your two musketeers while you’re at it. The three of you could do a lot of damage if you put your minds to it.”

“Right!” Lan Sizhui beamed at him, “Okay, yes. I’ll do that. See you around, Senior Wei!”

He bowed hastily and hurried off, lightly flipping over the walkway railing and flying off to find his two friends. Wei Wuxian watched him go, smile turning down.

Instead of following, he just moved to where he had been walking this whole while. The small side door was encrusted with ice, so he just slipped under the door’s shadows, coming out onto a small outer balcony of the workshop. The world spreading out from the workshop was nothing but ice and snow and he settled himself down on the edge, breath condensing as his legs swung idly over the empty drop before him.

Within moments, a few of his Mares appeared from his shadows, curious and attentive.

“Tell everyone to start holding back,” he told them, hushing them as they reared in surprise, “without Dreams, you lot will be able to start happening all too easily and that’s not what we want. Just until the Sandman wakes up, avoid seeking out mortals. Oh, and keep looking for whoever’s been binding you all - just don’t get bound before you come back with the information.”

They both threw their heads in agreement, and then one slipped away, as the second trotted through the air, extending its neck so Wei Wuxian could run his hands over the neck, exhaling and trying to lose his tension.

“A-Xian.”

He stiffened, fingers clenching around the mane in preparation to

“Don’t run away from me.”

Her voice was just as he remembered it, warm and welcoming and he blinked back the tears prickling his eyes. Robotically, he climbed back to his feet and turned.

Jiang Yanli, the Spirit of Valentine, Guardian (well, former Guardian, he reminded himself guiltily) of Love, Family and Intimacy, was just as lovely as the last time he had seen her, the biting winds of the North Pole doing nothing to draw away from her delicate beauty.

He ignored the way she too kept to the ground, the way her bow was immeasurably less powerful than her original one. He ignored the black stains marring the end of her too short golden wings,

“Shijie.” He dipped his head and then startled as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, no, Shijie, I’m sorry, please don’t-!”

She stepped forward and threw her arms around him.

“You’re back.” she whispered, burying her face in his neck, “You’re _back_.”

He was frozen, every limb rigid and his Night Mare snorted traitorously. Carefully, oh so carefully, he moved his arms around her.

“. . . Yeah, I’m back.” Oh fuck now he was crying, “I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so _so sorry_.”

She pulled off, moving her hands from his back to his face, and he hiccoughed up one of those delicate fingers brushed away his tears.

“Oh, A-Xian,” her smile was gentle, “you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I do, I _hurt you_ , I-!”

“Hmm~” she pushed some of his hair behind his ear, as his hands trembled against her back, “XianXian is still such a little child.”

He hiccoughed again, reaching up to clutch the hands still stroking his cheeks.

Somehow, he managed to pull himself together enough to consider what she was doing here in the first place.

“How . . . how is he?”

Her hands tightened and he gave them a squeeze. Somehow, she remained calm.

“It is not too dangerous, but he still hasn’t woken up . . . likely, the decrease in the Guardians’ power is preventing him from healing.”

“They thought this through. . .” Wei Wuxian couldn’t stop himself from musing, “Jin Zixuan’s absence has the most powerful effect, but the others would have just allowed him to recover. So they went after Xiao Xingchen first, in order to kneecap the Guardian’s safety net before going after the most impactful strike.”

She huffed, reaching out to pat down his untameable hair, “They told me you didn’t care, but you’re rather invested, aren’t you?”

He pouted at her, “Of course not. I just don’t like people messing with my Night Mares. That’s it.”

“Yes yes,” her smile widened slightly, “I’m sure that’s the reason, XianXian.”

His pout deepened. “ _Shijie_ ~”

She laughed at his whining, “Come on, let’s go see what they’ve decided.”

“What are you going to do?” He shoved open the door for her, waving for the Night Mare to head off as he closed the door behind her. She sighed, shaking the ice off her wings.

“I will take A-Xuan back to my palace.” The two walked quietly through the agitated workshop, most of the yetis, spirits and elves cloistered upstairs where the meeting was still taking place, “Our power is focused there. It should help.”

“Won’t be enough,” he pointed out and she nodded.

“That’s why we’re counting on you lot!” she responded, not a trace of doubt, and he laughed.

“Ah, Shijie, this one could never be considered a Guardian.”

“Hm, I never understood that. A-Xian is just as good as everyone else.”

“I think you’re biased.”

“You’re not allowed to question me,” she grinned at him, eyes sparkling, “I’m your big sister, my word is your law.”

He could say nothing in response to that, just wrapped his hand in hers and squeezed. The pair of them wove their way through the workshop, fairly unhindered, on their path to the small room set aside for Jin Zixuan.

The door flew open before they could arrive and a young Spirit ran out, smacking straight into Wei Wuxian’s front.

He let out a faintly pained grunt and Wei Wuxian snickered.

“Got places to be, kid?”

The young Spirit looked up, and his face went white. He was clad in a much more comfortable set of jeans and jacket, freckles and roundish face more indicative of a ground-based spirit.

“Hi there!” he grinned, and the poor thing went even paler.

“A-Xian, this is Ouyang Zizhen, one of my assistants. Zizhen, this is A-Xian, my brother.”

The Spirit glanced between them. “A-Xian . . . as in _Wei Wuxian_?”

“Hey.”

He thought what came next might be a whimper. Jiang Yanli hustled them into the room.

“A-Zhen’s father is the Groundhog, but he’s been working for me for several decades now.”

“The sentimental type, I see?”

“Y-y-yes!!”

“Aw, he’s cute,” he grinned at his sister and she poked his arm, warning in her eyes and smile on her lips.

“A-Zhen will be accompanying you,” she explained, “without A-Xuan, I need someone to bring me updates on A-Ling.”

“Ma’am . . .” the young Spirit mumbled, red-faced and she laughed warmly, patting his shoulder.

They all grew silent as the door swung shut behind them.

The Sandman lay atop the bed, eyes closed, his sands drifting desperately around him, trying to fix the marred spot on his chest.

Jiang Yanli turned and smiled.

“Like I said. We’re counting on you.”

Wei Wuxian stared at her, opening his mouth. Before he could speak, a minor spirit knocked on the door, sticking its head in.

“Master W-Wei?” their voice only slightly trembled, “The Guardians want to see you now.”

(What was he, the dog left out on the porch?)

With a sigh, he checked Ouyang Zizhen was holding onto his elbow and then passed them through the shadows.

The whole congregation jumped as they seemed to appear right in the middle, Ouyang Zizhen letting out a gargled cry as he tumbled loose.

“You rang?”

Lan Wangji immediately wafted over to his side, as Jiang Cheng stepped out.

“We’ve got a plan.”

“Excellent.”

“Shut up,” the Easter Bunny took a Deep Breath, “Easter is tomorrow. We pull out all the stocks, get the lights flickering again, and tip the scales back in our favour. And so, for this one time only, you may come into the Warren.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him.

“ . . . Jiang Cheng-”

“Don’t even.”

“Wonderful,” Lan Xichen clapped his hands before they could get too sour, “Everyone, to the sleigh-”

“Absolutely not,” Jiang Cheng interrupted, “My Warren, my rules. Don’t scream.”

He tapped his heel twice and the ground opened up beneath all of them.

Wei Wuxian let out a yelp as he slid down, nostalgia bringing him in all the wrong places as they went zooming through the Earth, every shape moving and switching, various bright laughs bring a slight air of levity to their group.

And then, right at his side, Lan Sizhui suddenly twitched. He glanced over sharply, as the ground flashed past their eyes, faster and faster.

“Sizhui?”

“That voice . . .” the Spirit mumbled, “I . . . I know you . . .”

“Sizhui! Snap out of it!” he reached over and gasped as images of red static, agitated Mares and roiling fields of darkness flashed before his eyes, all connected from the few fingers grazing Lan Sizhui’s shoulder, “Jiang Cheng! Someone’s in the Tunnels!”

No response.

His entire stomach felt like cold ice had been dropped inside and he immediately called his shadows, stretching out his hands.

“EVERYONE HOLD ONTO ME!” he roared over the rush of sound, feeling several bodies jump, hands wrapping around him, as he kept a grip on Lan Sizhui’s dazed figure and called for a passage to the Under Realm.

_“No.”_

He cried out as something blocked him hard, pain shooting straight into his skull.

_“You’re not going there.”_

The Tunnels blurred around them as enraged black sand exploded through the walls, static with red. Wei Wuxian clung to those nearest to him grimly, as they were all sent plummeting, out of the Tunnels, but still down, down, down, screams echoing from each voice, the Guardians’ presences vanishing like blips.

The screams all stopped when they hit ground with a thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, remembering that the Sandman and Jin Zixuan were both struck in the same place in the back: oh yeah. it's all coming together
> 
> also me, slowly starting to realise writing these chapters per day is potentially a bad idea: . . . hmmm, my brain sort of hurts  
> in other words, this chapter is kind of a mess!! Ha!! Ha!!  
> But, considering most of it was written in the last two hours, I'll take it!
> 
> NMG: The Spirit of Halloween - first  
> NHS: The Spirit of Halloween - second  
> JYL: St Valentine  
> XY: ??
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!!


	4. Insert Yeet City Arc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 days till Christmas!!

_“A-Yuan! A-Yuan!”_

* * *

“All right,” Wei Wuxian sat up, rubbing his sore head, “sound off - who’s not dead?”

“Urgh.”

“ _Ow_.”

“I think I broke something . . .”

“Get your butt off my wing, Lan Jingyi, before _I_ break it.”

The Winter Solstice squeaked and shifted off the baby Tooth. She glowered, shifting away and ruffling out her cloak as they all picked themselves up off the ground. Wei Wuxian glanced around at who’d come down with him.

Jin Ling, Ouyang Zizhen, Lan Jingyi, A-Qing . . . and one who hadn’t responded. He walked over in two quick steps and tapped their shoulder.

“Sizhui?”

The Spirit startled, whole body tensing as he spun around, but he fortunately relaxed as soon as he spotted Wei Wuxian.

“Ah . . . Senior Wei . . .”

“What happened back there?” he asked with a frown, “You completely logged off.”

Lan Sizhui just blinked, before his face contorted, “I . . . I don’t know. I thought I heard someone calling . . . me?”

“Your name?”

“No, it wasn’t my name,” he just frowned, looking even more lost, “at least, I don’t think it was. It still _felt_. . .”

Wei Wuxian just nodded reassuringly, helping him to his feet, “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, let’s find out where we are.”

Lan Sizhui nodded, clenched a hand around his staff and they joined up with the other four.

Together, the six gazed over the circular room they were in, dark corridors twisting and twirling off at every point on the circle. Figures, painted in bone-white, danced across the black walls, all variably contorted and agonised.

“Is . . . is this the Under Realm?” Ouyang Zizhen mumbled nervously, drawing closer to Wei Wuxian’s side. He just shook his head.

“No way, the Under Realm is way nicer than this edge festival. Someone’s yanked us out of the Tunnels. I _tried_ to divert us into the Under Realm,” absently he rubbed his temple, “but they weren’t having it.”

“What about the Guardians?” Lan Jingyi squeaked on his other side, “Why only us?”

“Do you go crying to the Guardians all the time?” Jin Ling snapped, “Aren’t you meant to be becoming one?”

“That’s rich from you, Mr ‘Be-Mean-To-Me-And-I’ll-Tell-My-Uncle’!”

“All right, enough!” Wei Wuxian broke sharply through the bickering and they all quietened down, “I can’t sense the Guardians, and wherever this is, I’ve never been. For now, I’m pretty sure it’s safe to assume that we’re on our own.”

They all shuffled closer to him.

“Can we get out?” Lan Sizhui asked softly, and he winced, stretching out and feeling the blockage, fortunately less aggressive than before.

“There’s some sort of barrier in place - not the same kind of grip that dragged us down, but I doubt we can get out.”

Lan Jingyi turned to him, looking very ready to whine and he just patted his head consolingly. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s a way out - every barrier has a weakness. let’s just pick a direction and see where it takes us.”

“No way!” Jin Ling protested, “it’s nearly pitch black! How are we supposed to protect ourselves if we can’t even see our feet?”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him before letting out a distinct ‘oh’. Right, these kids were all good, wholesome Guardians-to-be.

“Then we’ll get a second pair of eyes,” he held up his hand and they all bunched together as the dark scythe gathered before him, “Wen Ning? We need you.”

“Okay . . .” several gasps echoed through the hall as he shifted from scythe to human in a flash, black hair wafting around his shoulders, “Master Wei, what . . . where are we?”

“No fucking clue. Can you follow at the back? They can’t see in the dark like we can.”

“Oh, of course.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wen,” Lan Sizhui broke the silence first and Jin Ling turned to stare at him, askance, “we’ll be in your care.”

The Spirit of Death would have blushed if he still could, awkwardly shuffling to the back of the group. Wei Wuxian nodded, pleased.

“All right, is everyone all gathered together?”

They all nodded, a neat pack behind him and he held up a hand.

“Jin Ling? If you would?”

The Summer Solstice scowled, nevertheless pulling out an arrow and holding it aloft. The end shone with bright light, the power of the sun condensed at the tip. Wei Wuxian took it, holding it high to allow the light to pass over the corridor awaiting them.

“Good. Stay together. Have your weapons at the ready.”

They all nodded again, and he could have cooed.

Turning, he picked a random path and began to head off down it, Jin Ling’s light bouncing against the carved walls.

“So, whilst we’re wandering along with no clue where we’re going . . . Sizhui?” they all followed him in staring at the Winter Spirit, “Has anything else popped up?”

The Spirit thought for a moment before shaking his head, “Not really. I recognised this voice, and the name, but I couldn’t tell you what either of them meant.”

A-Qing frowned, folding her arms, and turning to fix her gaze at him, “Was it like an echo? Like you felt like it was pinging both from afar and from within.”

Lan Sizhui blinked, surprised, “Err, yes? I guess?”

Wei Wuxian frowned, “A-Qing. Are you thinking-?”

“It might have been his memories!” the baby Tooth threw out her hand, “Whenever they’re near, they tend to start calling - it’s why we need to keep the Palace so isolated.”

They all clustered together, exciting lighting up their faces.

“Do you think that means-?”

“The teeth are here!”

“But wait, I thought only the fairies could activate the boxes?”

“Then maybe the fairies are too!!!”

“Already, settle down,” Wei Wuxian cut in, “I know it seems good, but remember we didn’t just _find_ this place. Someone deliberately pulled us here, likely by using Sizhui’s memories. This is much more like a trap, than a jackpot.”

“And if it’s anything like the last trap . . .” Jin Ling scowled, face pinching and they all quietened down.

Wei Wuxian sighed, turned around and walked on.

He lost track of how long they spent, moving back and forth. A couple of times, they ended up in seemingly the circular room again, except Oyang Zizhen assured them that there was no confounding array at play.

They’d just wandered upon it a third time when Lan Jingyi shivered, backing off from a human skull sunk into the wall.

“This place is giving me the creeps.”

“Yeah, what doesn’t?”

“Oh, come off it, Young Mistress!”

“I kind of agree with Lan Jingyi,” Ouyang Zizhen mumbled.

“Everyone let’s not do this,” Lan Sizhui tried to entreat over them all whilst A-Qing just snorted derisively.

Wi Wuxian turned to roll his eyes at Wen Ning over their heads.

Wen Ning sent him a small little smile.

(“You think this is cute, don’t you?”

“. . . It’s a little cute.”)

Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue and the Reaper shrugged without shame. He was about to call them to keep it down a bit when Lan Sizhui’s hand shot out to grab the back of his shirt, saving him from almost running straight into a dead end.

He held up the arrow and they all inspected the wall, engraved with what appeared to be drowning babies.

“Well, at least they’re committed to their aesthetic.” he mused aloud.

Even Wen Ning sent him a judging look and he shrugged.

“Just an observation~”

“Do you have any clue what we’re doing?” Jin Ling huffed, and he shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Huh!?”

“I believe I was pretty clear about not knowing anything about this place. However, if there is one thing I _do_ know,” he handed the arrow over to Lan Jingyi, and began weaving his sand into the stone, feeling for a moment of weakness, “it’s that a passage that always leads back in on itself should never have a dead end. Here.”

He stepped aside and Wen Ning came forward, knocking lightly against the spot.

“What are you doing?” Jin Ling glanced between them, curious and Wei Wuxian just nudged them all back a bit.

Wen Ning pulled back his fist and slammed it clean through the wall. The bricks exploded apart, crumbling to pieces and the last stubborn bits simply aged to dust under Death’s touch.

“Thank you~” Wei Wuxian sang, hand held out for Wen Ning to high five in return. Taking back the arrow, he carefully stepped through the rubble and eyed the completely barren passage beyond. Compared to the overly dramatic walls of the encircling pathways, this one was nothing but a brick squat route leading in.

(So no flying then)

Without a pout, he grudgingly dropped properly onto his feet and prepared to walk. He’d barely gone two steps in when he heard screams.

He whipped around immediately, just in time to see Jin Ling’s arrow burn through several shadowy hands, A-Qing’s feathers slicing through the rest, Ouyang Zizhen off balance from where she’d dragged him behind her.

Wei Wuxian stilled.

(Just like in the tomb)

He had meant to ask . . . but after Jin Zixuan he had completely forgotten . . .

“Hey, all of you!” they all turned at his shout, quickly hurrying through and gathering around him.

He looked across the faces of each.

“I want you to tell me anything you know about ‘Xue Yang’.”

They all stared at him, askance.

“Um,” Ouyang Zizhen swallowed, “We’re kind of not meant to talk about him?”

“Great, I don’t care. Your Hanguang-Jun said to ask, so I’m asking.”

“He is considered . . . well . . . a stain on the reputation of the Lunar Council.” Lan Sizhui explained carefully, “He was, um, he was sort of . . .”

“He was meant to replace you,” Jin Ling spoke over him, deadpan and the others all immediately tried to shush him, but he just folded his arms and spoke louder, “he could manipulate the black sands. The Council wanted him to take over as the next Spirit of Fear.”

“Supposedly, it was to control the world’s Fear, left unattended following your exile but . . .” Lan Sizhui trailed off, uncomfortable and he sighed.

“Except he was actually intended to become their puppet instead of their enemy this time?” Wei Wuxian scoffed, “It would have been impossible - Fear took me as soon as I became a Spirit and it’s never once let go. No replacement could ever control it and teaching one to hope they can is asking for a temper tantrum.”

“Yeah, no kidding!” Lan Jingyi burst out, “They tried to cast him out when Fear rejected him, but then he turned on them all!”

“Why didn’t they straight up get rid of him?”

They all shuffled and he sighed, “Sometime today?”

“Nie Mingjue wanted him executed,” Ouyang Zizhen took over, “but Jin Guangshan didn’t want to just get rid of the first person who could control black sand since, um, you. So he insisted Xue Yang remain in captivity on the Moon.”

“And, let me guess, he broke out?”

“He almost destroyed the seat of the Lunar Council on the Moon,” Lan Sizhui winced, “all the Guardians intervened to bring him down. It was right after Nie Mingjue’s passing too so they weren’t as organised as they might otherwise had been. It was when . . . when Xiao Xingchen . . .”

He trailed off, glancing at the baby Tooth, who’d been surprisingly silent this whole time.

Wei Wuxian blinked.

“Is that when Xiao Xingchen lost his eyes?”

There were various nods and he sighed. “When Jin Guangyao came to power, was casting out Xue Yang one of the first things he did to clean up?”

“No!” Jin Ling protested, “Uncle decided to execute him, to honour Chifeng-Zun’s wishes! Xue Yang’s meant to have been dead for nearly 900 years!”

“Well, he clearly isn’t!” Lan Jingyi snapped back.A-Qing let out a strangled little swallow. One by one, they all turned to her.

“Maiden Qing?” Lan Sizhui’s spoke tentatively and Wei Wuxian patted his shoulder, crouching slightly to meet the baby Tooth’s eye level.

“It’s all right, A-Qing,” he promised, “Xiao Xingchen has a long history of pardoning those he shouldn’t.”

The baby Tooth let out a small little sniff, “It . . . it wasn’t his fault, at first. Only the Guardians and the Lunars knew what Xue Yang looked like and His Majesty had lost his sight - none of us, not even Master Song, knew who he was and he changed his voice to trick His Majesty.”

Wei Wuxian settled down onto cross legs and the others quickly joined him, wide-eyed.

“What happened?”

The baby Tooth fluttered her wings miserably, “I . . . I was the one who found him. I was out doing a patrol, just myself and His Majesty, when I saw him lying in the wildness. I think it was after he fell from the Moon - he was badly injured and looked like trouble, so I tried to lead His Majesty away, but it didn’t work.”

“Xiao Xingchen brought him back and insisted he be treated.” Wei Wuxian guessed and she nodded.

“We . . . we thought he would just leave, you know? Once he was fine. Except he . . . didn’t.”

“No one questioned this?!” Lan Jingyi exploded, “He was obviously looking to get revenge!”

“Spirits shouldn’t just enjoy living in another’s realm.” Lan Sizhui agreed with his cousin.

A-Qing pulled a face.

“I pointed out how weird it was . . .” she admitted, “but I wasn’t around enough. None of us were. Even back then, His Majesty basically never left the Palace, whilst the rest of us were constantly working out in the field. Even Master Song was constantly travelling around, commanding as proxy. His Majesty always said his work kept him busy enough - and he enjoyed it enough to never regret it . . .”

Her wings drooped.

“I think he was lonely. He missed getting to leave and visit his believers. Having someone staying there and spending the time with him made him feel a lot happier so he just . . . never really pushed for Xue Yang to leave.”

Wei Wuxian dully closed his eyes.

(Of course)

Not for the first time, he cursed the Vow of the Guardians.

(Overwork was going to break them if whatever was happening now didn’t)

“Is it really that bad though?” Jin Ling threw up his hands, “Like, pardoning a criminal bad?! Wei Wuxian was all alone for 1300 years and _he_ ’s not all morose and mopey!!”

They all turned to stare at him and he winced.

“Err, different kind of lonely, Jin Ling. I was _forced_ to be like that, and I assure you I gladly abandoned it once I had the chance. The Guardians are bound to their isolation by duty - and that’s a chain that’s a lot harder to willingly break.”

“You apparently broke your duties all the time,” Lan Jingyi piped up, “Teacher Lan always used your time as a student of the North as the bad examples.”

“Yeah, well, Old Man Lan and I had an understanding - I passed his classes without burning them down, he only punished me for the _major_ rule breaking.”

“He says you once abandoned a training mission to go out drinking.”

“And this isn’t about me,” Wei Wuxian stuck out his tongue, “Let’s get back to what went wrong with Xue Yang.”

“Right, the lot of you can shut up,” A-Qing elbowed Lan Jingyi aside, “see Xue Yang wasn’t born a Spirit - he was revived.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

(Lan Sizhui did too)

“But he was, well, obsessed with his time as a mortal. I think he hated it. So, one day, he found his memories and tried to hide them.”

“Tried?”

“Well, His Majesty can sense whenever one of the boxes has been misplaced and quickly went to retrieve it. And, well, he was curious, so he reviewed them.” She bunched up her shoulders, “The rest of us found him crying over it. We examined the box ourselves, thinking maybe their owner had died and . . .”

“And you recognised Xue Yang.” Wei Wuxian finished, nodding in understanding. She sighed.

“Master Song wanted to fight, but His Majesty refused. Instead, Xue Yang just vanished one night.” she folded her arms together, “He was meant to have been barricaded from the Tooth Palace. I know that he never came back - it left His Majesty inconsolable for almost three hundred years.”

“But he didn’t,” Wei Wuxian made sure his voice remained detached, “because he broke in to plant the mechanical torso.”

A-Qing nodded, before all her feathers puffed up and she threw her hands in the air.

“That Jerk!! His Majesty was so kind to him and this is how he repays us?!?!”

Ouyang Zizhen grabbed her shoulders as she raged. In the meantime, Wei Wuxian just turned back to examine the hallway.

“We’ll keep going for now. Stay on the lookout for black sand. Oh, and Sizhui?”

The Spirit straightened up under Wei Wuxian’ stern look.

“Don’t follow any sounds you might hear.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Oh, no, don’t call me that.”

“What?” Jin Ling grinned, trotting up beside him, “Sir?”

He let out a long groan. “Please no.”

“Would you prefer ‘teacher’?”

“Absolutely not.”

“How about ‘Elder’?” A-Qing joined in with a grin and he scowled at them both.

“I’m not _that_ old!”

“You’re older than Uncle Jiang, right?”

“Yeah, by like _fifty_ years. We’re barely different.”

“But that still means you’re about to tip two and half millennia, right?” Lan Jingyi snickered, and he pouted, rolling his head back.

“A-Niiing, they’re being mean to me!”

They all turned back expectantly. The Reaper blinked.

“You are kind of old.”

The group all burst into laughter as Wei Wuxian shrieked in protest.

They did eventually come out the end and even Wei Wuxian couldn’t stop his soft little exhale.

The pathway came out onto a small little platform and spreading out from it was halls and halls of stairways, lined in shelves, spiralling downwards, inviting them deeper where the light didn’t reach.

Feeling the younger ones beginning to move, he held up his arm.

“Senior Wei?” Lan Sizhui tilted his head. Wei Wuxian shook his own.

“We stop here.”

“Why?” Jin Ling protested, “Xue Yang’s obviously going to be hiding right in the centre of his realm!”

“He did always love hiding in dark places!” A-Qing inputted, nodding furiously.

Wei Wuxian just gave them both a thumbs up, “Exactly! So, let’s _not_ walk headfirst into the place where he’s probably the strongest. Besides, we’ve probably been walking for most of the night - we should take the moment to rest.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Lan Jingyi immediately flopped onto his back, letting out a relieved groan. Ouyang Zizhen swiftly joined him, and the two boys stretched out their gangly limbs. Jin Ling scowled at them, turning back to Wei Wuxian.

“We have to get out of here and-”

“And to do that, we need to find Xue Yang, I know.” he promised, soothing and Jin Ling settled down, still disgruntled, “but we’re not achieving anything tired. You’ve been providing us with light this whole time, Jin Ling. You especially deserve a break.”

The Summer Solstice flushed, “I don’t need a break!”

“That wasn’t an insult, kid, I’m saying you’re doing great and deserve a reward,” Wei Wuxian ruffled his hair before he could think better of it, turning to Wen Ning, “how are you going though?”

Wen Ning closed his eyes, softly inhaling and exhaling, “I’m going fine.”

“Do you think you can navigate down and then back up alone?”

The Spirit of Death nodded, “Call if you are attacked whilst I’m gone.”

“Will do. And Wen Ning?” his best friend turned to him questioningly and he grinned, “Stay sharp~”

Wen Ning huffed, before turning the ends of his arms into jagged blades, and drawing them against each other in a shower of sparks, completely deadpan.

“I’m plenty sharp.”

With that he dispersed into a cloud of black sand, swirling down the staircase to the spiral below.

Wei Wuxian watched him until he couldn’t see any long, before turning to the whole group.

“All right. Until Wen Ning returns, take it easy, maybe try and recharge you power circuits if anyone’s feeling low.”

There was a chorus of mumbled agreements, Jin Ling just joining the other two on the ground, as A-Qing snapped into her tiny form and settled down to sleep in Lan Sizhui’s hoodie.

Wei Wuxian dutifully crossed his legs and rose into the air, hovering over the edge of the platform, focusing on the veins of power beginning to struggle their way through his body, working at soothing them out.

For ten minutes, he was successful, but young Spirits always had short attention spans.

“Umm, Senior Wei?”

He tilted his head back.

“S’up, Sizhui?”

The Winter Spirit rubbed his arm for a moment. “Can I talk to you? Just for a moment?”“Are we not already talking~?”

The younger’s face froze, and Wei Wuxian tipped himself around and floated down to the ground. “Come on, sit!”

“O-Okay,” Lan Sizhui settled down beside him, “I was wondering . . . what is your Centre?”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him, slightly off guard. He hadn’t been expecting _that_.

“Gee, take a guess-”

“It’s not Fear.” Lan Sizhui interrupted confidently before wincing, “I . . . I mean. You’re the Spirit of Fear, like Hanguang-Jun is the Spirit of the New Year and Zewu-Jun is the Spirit of Christmas. But that’s not their _Centres_.”

Wei Wuxian slowly let his head drop to one side, “You won’t believe me.”

“I will! I promise!”

“Why is this so urgent?”

“I . . . “ Lan Sizhui inhaled and then he threw his hands up and it all came out in a whispered rush, “I don’t know mine! Everything’s been going on and on about me being ready to take the Vow, but how can I be a Guardian if I don’t know what I’m the Guardian _of_? Even Jingyi and Young Mater Jin know theirs!!”

Wei Wuxian blinked, a bit startled.

“They . . . they do?”

“Yes, Warmth and Imagination respectively.” Jack Frost gave an annoyed groan, yanking on his white hair, “But I have no clue what mine is!!”

“Courage.”

Lan Sizhui paused and glanced up, “Pardon?”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him. “That’s my Centre. Courage.”

Lan Sizhui slowly settled back down, eyes wide.

Wei Wuxian’s lips tweaked. “Surprised?”

“. . . Not actually,” Lan Sizhui’s expression softened slightly, lips lifting ever so slightly, “it’s easy to be brave around you. You’re sort of like Hanguang-Jun in that regard.”

He scoffed, glancing away, “In what regard could shadow and light be alike?”

He didn’t look back, but the small chuckle told him enough. Sighing, he just shrugged.

“What’s brought this up now?”

“. . . Something Hanguang-Jun said. Before we entered the Tunnels.”

Wei Wuxian tilted his head and silently prayed Lan Wangji hadn’t experienced a sudden failing in his mentorship.

“Which would be?”

Lan Sizhui entwined his fingers, “He’s planning to retire.”

(. . . What?)

“Lan Zhan . . . wants to _leave_ the Order?” he echoed, astonished and Lan Sizhui nodded.

“He said that, after this, he will formerly withdraw. He’s already discussed it with Zewu-Jun.”

“But,” he straightened up, “but _why_?”

Lan Sizhui shrugged, “He didn’t specify. Just that there were things in his life he wanted to sort out.”

Lan Sizhui fell silent there, still staring at his hands and Wei Wuxian blinked.

“He wants you to take his place.”

The Spirit nodded.

“He believes . . . especially after the battle against the Night Mare ambush . . . that I’m ready.”

Wei Wuxian tilted his head, catching his eyes, “Are you?”

Lan Sizhui looked up, panic seeping back in, “I don’t know? I don’t know my Centre-”

“Yeah, but you’re also easily the most powerful of your generation.”

Lan Sizhui cut himself off with a blink and Wei Wuxian sighed, shuffling closer.

“Listen - our Centres are what we give to the world. The things we hope we can bring to make it a better place. But why they are what they are? No one knows. It could be our pasts, our present, our personality or our dominions.” He poked the Spirit on the forehead, “You are not defined by who you were, Lan Sizhui. You are Jack Frost, and that seems to be something plenty impressive on its own. You can be a Guardian without needing to become something else.”

Lan Sizhui blinked, before his head hung, “But . . . how can I know who I am, without knowing who I was?”

Wei Wuxian inhaled, before he reached out and pulled the Spirit into his arms for a hug.

Lan Sizhui froze up for a moment, before wrapping his arms around his senior and burying his face in his neck.

“Nothing is every truly lost, Sizhui,” he murmured, “I promise.”

“Mm.” The Spirit pulled back, wiping his eyes. Wei Wuxian snickered.

“Look at you, you’re even sounding like Lan Zhan now.”

Lan Sizhui snorted properly at that and he grinned in response, helping him back up to his feet.

“What were you two talking about?” Jin Ling asked, squinting between the two of them. Wei Wuxian beamed.

“None of your business~”

“I found something.”

About four people screamed as Wen Ning manifested right in the middle of their small group. He gazed around nonplussed.

Wei Wuxian pressed a hand to his beating heart and managed to grin.

“Xue Yang?”

The Reaper shook his head. “Better.”

Wen Ning had found the teeth.

A-Qing let out a jubilant cry, buzzing forward immediately. The teeth were stored in soaring shelves, stretching out far as their eyes could see, stacked up together entirely too much like the contents of a catacomb for Wei Wuxian’s liking. Having to fly straight down for twenty minutes just to reach the halls didn’t help any. All of the Spirits were buzzing about, flying through the hallways.

“What about the fairies?” Lan Jingyi’s voice echoed through the shelves, “Are they here?”

“Nothing over here!”

“More teeth down this one!”

“Everyone, try to stay together!” he demanded, and there were a myriad of grudging grunts in response. Sighing, he flitted between the young Spirits.

Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen were traversing the shelves to the far left, Jin Ling somewhere in the middle, A-Qing in the adjacent corridor and . . . _and_. . .

(SHIT)

“Sizhui?!” he immediately glanced around, “Lan Sizhui?! Where are you?” 

The others all startled, spinning around.

“Sizhui?”

“Lan Sizhui!”

“Jack Frost!”

_“Lan Sizhui_?!” Wei Wuxian flickered through the shadows, flashing through the shelves, his pulse racing, “SIZHUI?!”

(“Found him. Them, rather.”)

He swore liberally and fell through the shadows to where Wen Ning was lurking in the darkness. He soared out and inhaled, panic sharp and fierce.

He’d stepped out into a long hall, what must lie at the end of all the spiralling pathways. An amorphous storm of black sand shifted lazily through the space, one part solidified and wrapped around Lan Sizhui’s neck, holding him up off the ground, his staff discarded carelessly against one of the walls. The Spirit was scrabbling, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing futilely as the cloud shifted eagerly towards Wei Wuxian.

He held himself firm as it pressed right up against.

“You must be Xue Yang.” His voice was amicable, whilst his eyes glinted red, “Let him go.”

_“I don’t see why I should~_ ” the jeer echoed out across the whole body, _“he cost me a lot of Night Mares back near old Chifeng-Zun’s tomb. I’m entitled to a bit of_ ** _retribution_**.”

The sand tightened and Lan Sizhui convulsed. Wei Wuxian kept still, not breaking his gaze from the kid.

“So, you are the one corrupting my Night Mares? I can’t say I’m a fan.”

_“Ouch_ ,” the sand shifted, a giant smile taking shape, _“Hearing that from the Bogeyman himself? I’m hurt_.”

“Let him go!!”

Wei Wuxian’s head whipped back to find the pack soaring in through the end of the hall, weapons bared. A-Qing scowled at the swirling black sands.

“Xue Yang!!” she screamed, “Thankless wretch! Sodden mud pile! Pool of spittle!”

_“Yes, yes, it’s nice to see you again too, Little Tooth. I see your tongue hasn’t improved.”_

“He trusted you!” she bared her feathered blades and Wei Wuxian straightened, “He let you return to the Palace! And you used it to hurt him!”

The sand twisted in on itself, tightening, _“This has nothing to do with His Majesty.”_

Her wings burst into motion and she shot up, the sand bunching in preparation.

“A-Qing, don’t!” his own sand wrapped around her arms and yanked her back. As she rounded on him, tears building, he pressed a finger against her temple.

_He still has Lan Sizhui. We can’t be reckless._

She stilled and exhaled, and the cloud of black sand swirled.

“ _What’s this? You’re listening to the Bogeyman of all people? Aren’t you little Spiritlings meant to be trying to murder him on sight or something?”_

“We have an understanding,” Lan Jingyi was focusing on his struggling cousin, barely sparing a glance for the cloud. It swirled, shifted back and forth slightly.

_“Oh, don’t worry, he’s fine. He was just a little distracted by_ **_this_ ** _.”_

From the black sand, a lone arm emerged, twirling a single golden tooth box. A young man was crudely sketched on the side, hair dark instead of white.

Wei Wuxian gestured for them to hold back, before wafting into the air and slowly floating to stand opposite the sand.

“So why did you lure him here? If you’re not aiming to hurt Xiao Xingchen, which you really kind of are, why are you stealing things that will hurt him anyway?”

_“Collateral,”_ the voice sneered, _“I’m sure you’d understand.”_

(His eyes tightened)

“Forgive me,” his voice was dismissive, “but I don’t think I’ve ever understood specifically targeting someone’s existence as simply collateral.”

_“But you know resentment, don’t you?”_ the cloud coiled around him, twisting and twirling over his body.

(He kept his eye on the struggling Spirit)

_“I’ve wanted to meet you for such a long time, Wei Wuxian,”_ the Spirit before him purred, _“Ever since I first heard about you. The Spirit who wielded enough power to rival the Guardians.”_

“I don’t consider that terribly complimentary. Offence fully intended.”

It chuckled again, _“Ah, you’re ruthless. And so dismissive too! Did you really think you could just draw out my bullet from Jin Zixuan’s back? I’m stronger than that you know~”_

(Jin Ling inhaled from down below, but Wei Wuxian ignored him, refusing to break eye contact)

“In my defence, I was panicking. And I, like, just learnt your name today.”

The cloud paused, before rippling, laughter erupting from all parts.”

“So they buried me, did they? Sunk my tale down so low not even the shadows have room for me? Like what they did to you?”

Wei Wuxian, ever so faintly, tipped his head in question.

“It did make me wonder,” Xue Yang mused, “You, of all people, working with the Guardians? That seems awfully forgiving.”

“Don’t worry, it’s all an agreement to take _you_ down.” Lan Jingyi scowled, “Of course the Guardians are willing to work with him.”

_“Foolish little Solstice.”_ They all startled as the choking strands of sand tightened, _“I think you’ve misunderstood - I’m astonished that_ Wei Wuxian _has forgiven the Guardians for what they did to his old believers.”_

Silence fell across the hall.

He knew, without looking, that the young Spirits were all staring at him.

_“Oh, you didn’t know~?”_ Xue Yang's grin returned, fangs suddenly on display, _“It was_ quite _the scandal. The Bogeyman had so few true believers, I can only imagine how heart breaking it was for him.”_

He coiled around Wei Wuxian’s neck, hands of sand trailing through Wei Wuxian’s hair.

_“The pain he must have felt when he returned to that little village to find each and every single one of them massacred by the Guardians.”_

“No.” Wei Wuxian interrupted their strangled gasps coldly, “It was made to look like the Guardians. I just fell for it completely.”

_“I’ll say~”_ Xue Yang giggled, drifting away from his ear to finally form, lean and wiry and crooked in all the wrong places, “How many Spirits and Lunars did you and the Reaper kill in revenge?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t blink. “3000.”

Xue Yang grinned, rolling back through the air and laughing loudly. 

_“_ DAMN. Not even a _flinch_.” He flew right back up, leaning around Wei Wuxian’s face, “Legends ain’t got nothing on you, Senior.”

Wei Wuxian’s lips tweaked up. “Someone like you is 1000 years too immature to be my junior.”

A scythe of shadows tore apart the sand and Xue Yang recoiled with a snarl, swiping across but Wei Wuxian had already darted back a safe distance through his shadows. Wen Ning had struck true and he snatched Lan Sizhui out of the air, the sands binding him burning to dust in the face of the Reaper’s aura, landing carefully to avoid jostling the half-conscious Spirit.

He absently caught the golden box as it sailed passed and placed it in trembling hands.

“Hold this.”

“. . . Ahh . . .”

“It is all right-”

“. . . A-Yuan . . .” Lan Sizhui mumbled, trance-like, “. . . gege’s calling . . . calling for his Nightlight . . .”

(Wen Ning went rigid. Slowly, he glanced down. Eyed facial features, older, smoother, made perfect by power.

“. . . How do uou know that name?”)

Xue Yang roared with laughter, blades of dark sand forming in each hand. Lan Jingyi pulled out his sword, Ouyang Zizhen and Jin Ling’s bows at his shoulder. Above them, A-Qing hovered into the air, feathers glistening.

With a simple wave of his hand, they were all blasted away.

“Stay back!” Wei Wuxian ordered them, “I have this.”

“You know, Wei Wuxian,” the voice echoed around them, “I’m starting to get really tired of you not taking this seriously.”

He smiled. “Get in line, brat.”

Xue Yang just tilted his head, smile stained with petulance. In a swift moment, he exploded into black sand and it swarmed over the Bogeyman. Idly, he flicked his hair. From the shadows of his long hair, his own sand swirled free, forming a protective layer over his body.

“You’re trying to consume me.”

“Obviously.” Xue Yang’s echoed all around him, a perfect sphere swirling around his body, “I have a big fish to skewer and being Fear’s Reject isn’t going to cut it. I think it’s about time you were put out of commission, don’t you?”

“You? Master of Fear,” he scoffed and idly patted at the sand trapping him. It roared with red static, forcing him to recoil his hand, “Please.”

“Would you like me to prove myself?” the voice danced, giddy and eager, “I know you’re scared of dogs.”

“Of course, I am,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “I was mauled to death. That shit lingers.”

“I know you’re scared of not being able to protect the ones you love.”

He stilled. The voice danced around him, gleeful.

“You’re scared of being weak, and unwanted. You’re scared that you’ll get the people you care about killed. Like what happened to the dear Guardian of Love~”

Xue Yang was laughing, the sound ricocheting through the tightening orb and he swallowed, whistling. His own power shoved back, straining to hold back the power trying to consume his body and power.

“Do they know, I wonder?” his intended replacement’s voice was coy, “they didn’t know about the village. The Moon clearly didn’t want that spreading. I wonder if the Moon also suppressed the rest of the story?”

“I’m sure it did.”

“Then you’re not angry?” 

(Xue Yang sounded angry)

“You’re not angry that Jiang Yanli took a blow meant for you, poisoned by moonfire? That you used the power of Death itself to cut off the poisoned limbs before it could spread to the rest of her body? That you were too _weak_ to do it right, and horribly mangled her wings in the process, too weak to defend yourself, too weak to proclaim your innocence after they declared you’d _backstabbed_ your dearest _Shijie_.”

He kept his eyes closed, pushing at the sphere.

Slowly, he exhaled.

“I’ve realised something.” He mused, “You could never be the Master of Fear.”

The sand, for the briefest of moments, stilled.

“Why?”

This word didn’t echo. He turned to find Xue Yang’s physical form watching him, scowling.

He let out a peeling laugh, “Isn’t it obvious? You got it wrong! That’s not my fear at all!”

Xue Yang frowned. “Yes _,_ it _is-_ ”

“You’re not Fear,” Wei Wuxian grinned, “You were never Fear. You’re just a little Voice in people’s ears, tearing them down and digging at their insecurities. You’re not Fear, you’re paranoia. You’re malice. You’re a leech, sucking on humanity.”

“Oh yeah?” Xue Yang called his two swords, “in that case, why don’t I show you just how afraid of me you should be?”

Wei Wuxian smiled.

“Oh no you won’t,” Xue Yang brought his guard up as Wei Wuxian’s eyes glowed red, “now it’s my turn.”

Before a single Spirit could react, the Bogeyman’s entire body exploded into black sand, flying wide and ripping apart the sphere, right as a shockwave erased the barrier from the outside.

“Mr. Wen?”

The Reaper glanced back and the younger Spirits all stiffened. Lan Jingyi swallowed, supporting Lan Sizhui in his arms.

“Was it true?”

“I’m sorry?”

“About the village . . . was it true?”

Wen Ning blinked, turning away from the swirling sphere that had overtaken Wei Wuxian to stare at him curiously, “Why are you asking me?”

The Winter Solstice swallowed, “Well, y-you’re a Wen right? That’s who . . .”

“The inhabitants of the village were the Wen family,” Jin Ling interrupted, “the believers of Wei Wuxian.”

Wen Ning slowly tilted his head sideways and they watched as the black veins on his neck grew out, ever so slightly.

“Yes. It is true.” He closed his eyes, tilting his head up, “I wasn’t there. Like Master Wei, I only arrived after they had all been killed. And yes - it did look like the Guardians had done it.”

“Did you get mad?” Ouyang Zizhen whispered, and they all stumbled back as pure black eyes turned to leer at them.

“Guess.”

With that the Reaper turned and sunk his hands into the barrier, exhaling slowly and slowly pushing in. The black sphere exploded with red static, crumpling to dust, right as pure black sand flared out, casting itself across the sky. Xue Yang slammed into the ground and the young Spirits backed up behind the Reaper as something spread itself across the ceiling, hair twisting and curling, Night Mares in its arms and red dripping from its eyes and lips.

(Wei Wuxian met Xue Yang’s mind)

From the coiling darkness, writhing, twisting, mutated forms lurched out, the pits of mortal imagination, shambling wrecks of existence

(He witnessed the worst of humanity.)

Xue Yang just scrambled up, scowling, directed his sand up. It was consumed on contact, the red purged with nary a finger flicked, eerie whistling calling it forth.

(He witnessed as a boy lost his own humanity.

And then used it as an excuse to inflict the worst back on the innocent)

“Xue Yang, Xue Yang~” the smooth voice rippled from the distorted face, stretched out across the ceiling, “Are you really not afraid of the Bogeyman~?”

Xue Yang _screamed_ , hurling out his hands and casting his sand out, aiming at everything. It just fell flat, loose, raining down upon the stone as the figure on the ceiling tore through him.

The area was finally left empty as he collapsed against the stones with a dull thud, every bit of the hall chipped away by the collision.

Sand coalesced right before his slumped figure and Wei Wuxian bent down, tipping up his chin with a lone finger.

“Yu’ve lost, little Voice. Sorry about that.”

Xue Yang stared up at him, lips tweaking up. “Are you going to kill me? Another tick on your wrist? Make it 3001?”

Wei Wuxian smiled down at him.

“Oh, don’t be silly. I’m not the one who deals in Death.”

Xue Yang couldn’t react before the figure of sand was dispersed by the black blade piercing through, skewering the Spirit’s torso. 

Wei Wuxian properly reformed himself behind the Spirit as Wen Ning yanked back his arm, his touch already spreading through the Spirit, pacing around the kneeling figure to stand beside his best friend.

Xue Yang just scoffed, form blurring, unable to retain itself as the shadow in his centre slowly spread.

“. . . You’re a right piece of work, Wei Wuxian.”

“Thank you,” he shrugged, “It’s kind of my thing.”

“This isn’t over,” the Spirit spat, grinning, “that Will can’t be stopped. Everything’s already in motion. You’re powerless against the justice we’re giving to the world.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t blink. “Maybe so. But that’s awfully hypocritical for someone who never found their Centre.”

Xue Yang recoiled and he tilted his head.

“You think I didn’t see? You’re no Spirit - you’re a parasite. You take and take and take have nothing to give. I’m sorry your time as a mortal was miserable. I have no sympathy for the misery you inflicted back onto mortals in revenge.”

Xue Yang snarled, “ _Unwanted blood traitor-”_

His arm flew off and they all stared at it. Silver flickered and his head soon followed.

As the Spirit truly dissolved into sand, never to reform again, Song Zichen merely sheathed his silver rapier, the Juniors at his back. His thin tail curled across the ground and freshly broken manacles were still crumpling to sand at his wrists.

“Sorry. He was starting to drag on.”

They found the fairies beyond the hall, in cages or in chains depending on their forms.

The remaining mechanical hand was at the very bottom of the prison hall, and upon its removal, they all felt the barrier disperse from the realm around them. Unfortunately, even as the binds disintegrated and the Spirit controlling them was truly gone for good, not one single figure left.

“None of you can fly?” Wei Wuxian frowned and Song Zichen nodded.

“Xingchen’s power is next to nonexistent - I’m scared to borrow enough to even transform.”

“We’ll need to bring the memories back to the Tooth Palace, and reawaken them!” A-Qing insisted, “That should get everyone going again!”

Song Zichen’s expression twisted. Wei Wuxian wordlessly shook his head.

“No, A-Qing. That’s not going to work.”

The Spirits all gathered around them, even Lan Sizhui alert enough to be confused.

“Why not?” Jin Ling asked, eyes wide and Wei Wuxian waved a hand around.

“We’ve been down here for hours. Easter must have come and gone - and yet nothing’s changed.”

“Something went wrong,” Song Zichen agreed.

“But that’s not fair!” Lan Jingyi protested, “We defeated Xue Yang!”

“Um, _I_ defeated Xue Yang. At best, Xue Yang defeated _you_.”

“The point is,” Lan Jingyi continued on, “there shouldn’t have been anything wrong with Easter! The corrupted Night Mares lost their Master. So why hasn’t anything improved?”

“Simple,” Wei Wuxian gazed around at all the meticulous planned bird cages, “Xue Yang wasn’t working alone.”

“What?”

“He was responsible for the Night Mares and binding the sand - but someone else is controlling that Will.”

“But why?” Ouyang Zizhen burst out, “Why is someone attacking the Guardians?”

(“I have a big fish to skewer.”)

Wei Wuxian floated into the air, scratching his nose.

The Will. Baxia’s tomb. Targeting the Guardians. 

Skewering a big fish.

Something tinged his senses and he glanced up, as both Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui beamed.

“Hanguang-Jun!!”

A spotlight pierced through the realm and the Guardian of Light blasted his way down, the barrier blocking him no longer.

Both his trainees flew to his side and he absently pat their heads as he gazed around, eyes narrow, clearly shocked but still processing the sea of fairies calmly and Wei Wuxian felt himself finally sigh, a smile pulling up his lips.

Lan Wangji rounded on him, immediately wafting to his side and Wei Wuxian raised up his hands defensively.

“I _swear_ I didn’t do anything this time. Xue Yang-“

Lan Wangji yanked him forward and crushed the Bogeyman into his chest. Wei Wuxian blinked.

“. . . Lan Zhan?”

“You’re safe,” the Guardian murmured, even his monotone unable to cool the relief, “Was worried.”

“Sorry for worrying you. But don’t worry, we’re all fine,” a bit unwillingly, he pulled back, “but what about your end? What happened to Easter?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes flickered down and he slowly shook his head.

“Not one egg made it to the surface.”

Jin Ling let out a strangled inhale. The others all glanced around nervously.

“How are the others?” Lan Sizhui asked, before blinked, “. . . Where are the others?”

“Orders from the Moon. We are to return to our realms. Jin Guangyao is descending to deal with this matter personally before anything worse happens.” Lan Wangji turned to the young Spirits. “You did well. But you are to return to your realms and your mentors until further notice.”

“How bad are they?” Jin Ling demanded, “How is Uncle Jiang?”

Lan Wangji didn’t answer and Wei Wuxian sighed and subtly held his hands in a small ball, “Fluffy?”

Lan Wangji blinked at him.

He mirrored the small hand ball. “Fluffy.”

(If it wasn’t serious, Wei Wuxian might have giggled)

At their side, Song Zichen tapped A-Qing’s shoulder. “Come then. We have to get everyone home. Xingchen will need us.”

“Madam Jiang will want us back at the Palace of Hearts.” Ouyang Zizhen touched Jin Ling’s shoulder. The Summer Solstice glanced at him, before turning back to Wei Wuxian with wide eyes.

He smiled, “Reassure your Mother. Then take a hop down into the Warrens.”

“Okay.”

The Spirits winked out, one by one, leaving the group from the North alone.

“Brother is waiting at the Workshop,” Lan Wangji closed his eyes, beginning to call his lights, “he is waiting to meet us there with Jin Guangyao.”

“Come on, Senior Wei,” Lan Sizhui took his hand eagerly. His golden box stuck out from his hoodie’s pocket, “you’re plenty welcome to come with us.”

“. . . Right.”

He stared at Lan Wangji as the Guardian formed his transport spell.

(The Will. Baxia’s tomb. Targeting the Guardians. 

Skewering a big fish.)

(The Will. Baxia’s tomb. Targeting the Guardians. 

Skewering a big fish.)

Skewering a big fish.

(Jin Guangyao descending to deal with this matter personally)

“It’s not the Guardians they’re after,” he realised dully, “the Guardians were the _bait_.”

“What are you going on about?” Lan Jingyi demanded, but before he could explain, the lights around them suddenly cut off.

They all stared as the figure in white crumpled, eyes fluttering and sword ringing against the ground.

“Hanguang-Jun!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, this chapter: I'm gonna give the Wen Ning stans all they want
> 
> AND I'M STILL GOING!  
> So like, if MOST of yesterday's chapter was written yesterday, it's safe to say ALL of today's chapter was written today.  
> BUT I finished it - take that chapter!!
> 
> XY: the Cruel Voice in your Head
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who commented, left kudos or is just generally enjoying this sprint fic!! I decided to do it as a sort of writing challenge and let me assure you, y'all are ninety per cent of my will to keep going.
> 
> Admittedly, bless your sweet hearts for thinking Xue Yang was the final antagonist with three chapters to go.  
> Heat stroke is over!!


	5. 1300 Years Ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is TOMORROW get HYPE  
> WARNING: check the tags

The Guardian of Light was breathing, but it was faint, barely a single light glowing from his body.

“Sizhui, call Zewu-Jun.”

“Right!” the Spirit pulled out a small crystal, spinning it in his palm. In the meantime, Wei Wuxian dropped down beside the Guardian.

“Ln Zhan?”

Lan Wangji struggled to look up, eyes dull and barely glowing. Wei Wuxian thinned his lips.

“How many are left?”

“. . . Six.”

(. . . Fuck)

Six lights left.

No wonder the Man in the Moon had classified this as an emergency. Exhaling softly, he tucked a long lock of hair behind Lan Wangji’s ear.

“Don’t worry, Lan Zhan,” he pulled the other’s arm over his neck, “I’ve got you. Wen Ning?”

“Yes,” his friend crouched down beside him, picking up Lan Wangji’s wrist and feeling for his circuits, frowning, “It is stable. But unsustainable.”

“Um, Senior Wei?” Lan Sizhui turned to him, nervous, “The North’s communications aren’t picking up.”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, we’re fucked, this is all-”

“Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian glanced up, as he and Wen Ning pulled the Guardian to his feet, “calm down.”

“Right. Calm. _How are we meant to stay calm_?”

Wei Wuxian huffed, “Lan Zhan needs to rest - that’s obvious. We need to make contact with Zewu-Jun, also obvious.”

“But he’s not responding . . .” Sizhui mumbled, “He always makes sure to keep the Workshop accessible. What if-?”

“Zewu-Jun is likely in no better shape than Lan Zhan,” he told them flatly, “If Jin Guangyao has truly descended to Earth, than we have no idea what’s going on in the Workshop.”

“The Man in the Moon wouldn’t have cut communications though?” Lan Jingyi swallowed, “Right?”

(Maybe he did. He’d never held very high expectations of any of the Lunars)

“Is there some place we could retreat too?” Lan Sizhui asked, anxious, “just until we get a signal from the Workshop?”

“That’s probably for the best,” Wei Wuxian agreed with a nod. They’d need someplace isolated, easily defensible if whatever last bits of that Will came for them. Someplace they could get in and out of easily too.

Wait.

He had the perfect place to go, what was he worrying about?

“I know where we can go, both of you gather here.” He whistled and they both startled as a Night Mare reared up from the shadows, equal in a size to a regular horse. “Give me a hand.” 

They, good boys that they were, both jumped to attention, Lan Sizhui getting Lan Wangji’s legs, and together, they managed to lift him up onto the Mare’s back. Wei Wuxian called reins to his hands, patting Lan Wangji’s back.

“Wakey, wakey, Lan Zhan. I need you to hold onto this, ‘kay?”

“. . . Wei . . . Wei Ying . . .” the Guardian mumbled, dull eyed and shivering. His fingers were still hooked into Wei Wuxian’s hoodie and he frowned, entwining their fingers.

“I’m right here. I just need you to hold the reins as well.”

“. . . Mm.”

“Good boy,” he glanced over, to where Lan Sizhui was watching anxiously, where Lan Jingyi was clutching Bichen with white knuckles and he gathered them closer, looking over their heads. “Wen Ning?”

“Yes?”

“Can you keep a hold on the boys?”

They both turned to the Reaper. Lan Sizhui dipped his head obediently, and Lan Jingyi only mildly stiffened as the Spirit of Death moved right up to their sides.Wen Ning smiled at the Winter Spirit shyly, a warm light in his eye. Wei Wuxian glanced between them before clearing his throat and deciding to ask later.

“Wen Ning, we’re travelling down. I’ll take care of Lan Zhan.”

“Wait, _what_?!” Lan Jingyi yelped and Sizhui went wide-eyed.

“Down? You mean? Senior Wei, you’re taking us to the _Under Realm_?”

“I am,” he spoke over their alarmed cries, “Now, welcome to Air Sand~ Please keep at least one limb against the vehicle, which is our very own Reaper here. Exits are fucking everywhere, so make sure you don’t take any of them! All ready? Let’s go!”

And before either of them could respond, Wen Ning grabbed both their arms and Wei Wuxian dragged them all down through the shadows.

Within a blink, they were stumbling out from a cascade of black sand, the Under Realm stretching out before them.

Both of the boys landed ass first, legs trembling from the trip, and Wei Wuxian snickered, absently waving a hand. The presence in the realm shifted, curious and protective as it yanked his doors shut.

He patted part of the wall appreciatively, grinning down at the pair.

“Never travelled by shadow before?”

“First time for everything?” Lan Sizhui mumbled. Lan Jingyi just moaned and collapsed on his back. He blinked up, out over the realm spreading out around them.

“Damn. It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.”

“What, did you think I just camped out in some cave for 1300 years?” Wei Wuxian drawled, offering out a hand. The sound of their shuffling footsteps echoed for miles through the cavernous black halls, no barriers between the black concrete footbridges and the unending drops stretching out on either side, the chasms filled with stairways crossing upside down and across and under and through, a maze of black concrete to get even the most devoted of intruders lost.

In the alcoves sunk into each wall, the Night Mares watched them all, eyes slitted and wary of the newcomers, but remaining non aggressive considering the presence of their Master. Aside from them, the halls were empty, void of noise save for their sound of their feet.

“Nice place?” Lan Jingyi tried, glancing around with his hands clutching his elbows. Lan Sizhui was more silent, staring around, mesmerised, a slight frown on his face.

“. . . Senior Wei?” 

“Hm?” he glanced back from where he’d been keeping his focus on the limp Guardian beside him, “What is is Sizhui?”

“. . . Were you truly trapped down here?” the Spirit’s voice was tiny, “All alone? For 1300 hundred years?”

“Yeah,” they both startled, and he shrugged, nonchalant, “Got trapped down here then lost all my believers. Didn’t have the power to break out.”

“But . . . what about . . .?” Sizhui glanced over at the silent Spirit of Death trailing beside them. Wen Ning just shook his head.

“I was above ground when the Under Realm sealed. Master Wei and I were forcefully separated.”

That got both their attention and Lan Jingyi frowned.

“But how does that work?” He asked, tilting his head, “Jiang Wanyin said you two were never apart.”

Wen Ning let out a discontent hum. Wei Wuxian snickered.

“Ah, ah, you really shouldn’t take what the Guardians say as law, Jingyi. Wen Ning and I don’t _like_ being apart - no one ever said we couldn’t be.”

“But you were awoken by Senior Wei, right?” Lan Sizhui glanced between them, “You . . . you’re one of . . .”

“I’m not a Night Mare,” Wen Ning replied, a trace defensively, “I was properly Chosen as a Spirit. It just happened to be Master Wei who revived me rather than the Moon like normal.”

“What happened?” Lan Jingyi asked, eyes wide and Wei Wuxian huffed.

“What’s with the curiosity?” He startled, suddenly reaching out and yanking the Winter Solstice just before a newly forming staircase took off his head.

They both stared at it, then at him.

He shrugged.

“This place likes to change.”

“Change . . .?”

“Yeah, it’s formed from the collision of all of humanity’s subconscious fears and is thus very subject to temporal impermanence!!” he dragged them along, ducking under a new archway and stepping to the right. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi both yelped as they fell, but a new footbridge immediately appeared underneath, and Wei Wuxian went walking along it.

He led them deep down, to one of the most tucked in nooks in the whole realm.

He had taken full advantage of the modern day, acquiring blanks, photos and pictures to decorate the dark stones, fashioning himself a rather nice bed along one of the alcove indents and it was to this pile of cushions and blankets that he led the Mare carrying Lan Wangji towards.

There was a bit of a problem. Wei Wuxian was, unfortunately, a bit shorter than his old friend.

“Hmm, this won’t do,” he clicked his fingers and the walls shifted, the alcove stretching out enough that the blanket no longer covered the whole space, “that should be big enough, right? Wen Ning, help me.”

His friend nodded and together they lifted the unconscious Spirit off of the Mare, settling him down onto Wei Wuxian’s bed. Lan Jingyi hurriedly rested Bichen beside him.

“Is this really okay?” the Winter Solstice shifted, “We’re safe here?”

“The Under Realm is one of the most secure of all the realms,” he assured him, “even if someone were to breach it, they’d have to get through all my Mares.”

The various golden eyes peering down at them through the arches all glowed brighter, a few stamping hooves and huffing proudly. Around them all, the presence in the walls flexed proudly.

Wei Wuxian turned back to the slumbering Spirit.

“Lan Zhan can rest here for a bit. In the meantime, I want to tackle this Will, once and for all. Someone is clearly using it for someone - Sizhui, have you been keeping the pieces in sacks?”

“Yes - but, um, some of them are pretty mangled. Especially the torso.”

“We have stores of black sand,” Wen Ning piped up, “it’s pretty reliable for repairs - especially with any sort of empowered technology.”

“Good,” Wei Wuxian nodded at his best friend, “Can you take them there? I’ll keep watch.”“You sure?”

“Positive,” he tapped the wall absently, “I’m sure I’ll have company.”

The presence in the walls thrummed in scolding disapproval for his flippancy and he grinned. Wen Ning ran his fingers along the wall, before turning to the young Lans.

“This way.”

“Hey, in that case, could you tell us about how you became a Spirit? I totally thought you and Senior Wei had this metaphysical bond or something.”

“Not exactly . . .”

Wei Wuxian listened as their voices trailed off, before slumping back against the wall and remaining content by simply watching the sleeping Guardian beside him.

“My family were pariahs,” The Reaper spoke softly, absently floating up to avoid a new balcony suddenly pushing itself out from the wall, “our old leaders did terrible things, and humanity punished us all. Back then, it was easy to believe there was something in the shadows.”

“My family, the Wen family, stumbled across one of the very few mundane entrances to the Under Realm. Wei Wuxian intervened, to prevent us from walking in.”

“It’s that bad?”

“You’ve seen the way the Under Realm shifts,” he shrugged, “for a mortal to gaze at it without Master Wei Wuxian acting as buffer? They are consumed, mind, body and soul. When we first saw him, we thought we’d met the devil.”

“What happened next?” Lan Jingyi floated beside him, eyes wide, Lan Sizhui more silent but equally curious. Wen Ning’s smile was wane.

“What the mortal world wished upon us was scarier than any Bogeyman. We turned to him for help - and he came. We built out village right near that entrance, protected from any who might wish us harm.”

His face contorted.

“Unfortunately, we didn’t know . . . it wasn’t just mortals who had begun to speak our name with hate. The Spirits too, reviled us as the believer of Wei Wuxian. It culminated one day when . . . when I was going to get food.”

He exhaled, “I encountered a golden Spirit named Jin Zixun. And he killed me.”

They both listened, silent and intent.

“To kill a believer - it is an act of war. He might as well have challenged Master Wei to a duel to the death. But before Master Wei went after him, he brought my body back to the village and he called me.”

He examined himself, his too pale skin, his too black eyes.

“I heard him. And I answered.”

“The first Spirit ever revived by a being other than the Moon.” Lan Sizhui breathed.

(The only Spirit too)

Wen Ning smiled briefly, “Wei Wuxian waited until I was stable and then he hunted down Jin Zixun. The Guardians tried to stop him - but he managed to shoot an arrow into Jin Zixun’s back and rendered the Spirit to nothing but black sand. He never regenerated. And Wei Wuxian and I were hailed as the monsters of the Spirit realms.”

Left alone in the alcove, Wei Wuxian was distracted from his internal musings by a faint mumble and he glanced back, shifting to the struggling Guardian.

“Lan Zhan! Calm down, everything’s okay.”

“Wei Ying . . . Wei Ying is okay?” Lan Wangji mumbled, seeking him out and he clutched trembling hands reassuringly.

“I’m just fine, Lan Zhan. We just need a little bit of time - with the Tooth Palace back in business, we’ll have you guys fixed up shortly.”

“Wasn’t there,” Lan Wangji bit out, “Wei Ying was in danger . . . I wasn’t there.”

“And it still turned out fine,” He assured him, “Everyone escaped Xue Yang unscathed. Though, honestly, it’s only because he was so intent on playing with us. If he’d come at us with all his Mares again, _that_ would have turned out Very differently-”

“Wei Ying asked me,” Lan Wangji’s mumbled intruded on his muse, “. . . to keep him safe.”

“Ah, actually I asked you to be the most gentlemanly of escorts,” he grinned, “there’s a slight difference there.”

Lan Wangji blinked up a him, unfocused.

“I promised I would keep Wei Ying safe.”

He grinned, “And just who did you make this promise with, oh noble Guardian of Light?”

“Myself.”

(Wei Wuxian blinked)

“. . . Why?”

“. . . Regret?”

“Regret?” Wei Wuxian echoed, softly, as if the world around them was fragile, and all too easily broken, “What could you possible regret?”

“Back then . . . 1300 years ago,” Lan Wangji’s face contorted, “I stood against you.”

“You were right do so-“

“No.”

He fell silent as those eyes burnt. This meant something to Lan Wangji - something powerful.

“Wei Ying . . . told Wei Ying I would stand with him. But when he needed me the most . . . I was useless.”

Lan Wangji’s voice was filled with pain, “Wei Ying should never have forgiven me.”

Wei Wuxian just stared down at the pale face, absently brushing his fingers through long silken hair, unbelievable fondness filling him at the kindness of the Spirit beside him.

“Lan Zhan, back then . . . were you trying to save me?”

“Tried. Failed.” He’d almost call that tone of voice petulant, but he was surprised by the next hushed bit, “Jin Zixuan too . . .”

“. . . Huh?”

“Jiang Yanli stopped your rampage, and it only caused you more pain.” Lan Wangji whispered, “Jin Zixuan knew that Lady Valentine wanted your return - he promised her he’d bring you back safe. But you . . . _you_. . .”

He chuckled (what else could he do? Scream?)

“I was tired, Lan Zhan. So tired,” even now, he could hear it in his voice, “the Wens were all dead. I’d crippled Shijie - screamed for Wen Ning to leave me alone since he was the one who cut her, when it was _never_ his fault. I was ready to be dragged away.”

He let out a groan, pulling his fingers through his hair.

“I was a mess.”

“Should have been there . . .” Lan Wangji mumbled, “Should have been by your side.”

“Lan Zhan . . .”

“Never again,” the Guardian whispered, “promised myself that I’d never again leave your side.”

He blinked, and something in his chest ached.

“Lan Zhan,” he spoke slowly, voice pained, “You know how much I hate all your duties. Don’t make me one of them-”

“Never,” Lan Wangji immediately spoke, “Wei Ying is my pride. My happiness.”

(What?)

Wei Wuxian felt his cheeks warm and he chuckled, “Aiyah, Lan Zhan, best not say things like that. What if I hold you to them?”

“Good.”

He spluttered. Lan Wangji was staring up at him, focused and intense and Wei Wuxian tried to ignore the warmth pooling in his chest.

“Master Wei?”

“YeS!?” he jumped almost a foot, spinning around, finding the group back. “Ah. Hi guys.”

Lan Jingyi was watching him with some very arched eyebrows, whilst Lan Sizhui, bless his heart, just held up the sack. 

“We reassembled them.” 

“Good,” he bounced up, quickly fanning his definitely red cheeks, “Wen Ning, keep watch over Lan Zhan. Jingyi, try contacting the Workshop again. Sizhui and I will rebuild the body.”

They all nodded, and he and Lan Sizhui moved out to a more open space, leaving the other two spared from this next bit.

“Ready?”

Lan Sizhui nodded grimly.

“Ready.”

He tipped open the sack and Wei Wuxian sharply whistled. Night Mares raced down as the body parts all surged out viciously, each and every one trying to thrash free. The Night Mares swirled around, ramming the mechanical bits together as Lan Sizhui held up his staff, the frost and wind calling the pieces to bind together.

Slowly, bit by bit, the hands and legs bound themselves to the torso and the pair stepped back to examine it, both still holding out their hands to contain.

Wi Wuxian inhaled.

Lan Sizhui glanced at him. “Do you recognise it? It is unfamiliar to me.”

(No wonder)

“I’d recognise it anywhere,” he crouched down, “the amount of times Wen Ning and I came up against the owner of this armour is too many to count. But he was probably long gone whilst you were still young . . .”

(Baxia)

It should have been so obvious.

Lan Sizhui’s eyes were wide as saucers. “Wait, but . . . Chifeng-zun vanished almost 1000 years ago. How could his Will be around?

“This isn’t his exact armour,” Wei Wuxian reached down and tapped it, “this is solid lunar engineering, made in replica of the armour. He was bound within it before he vanished and severed along with the armour pieces, thus trapping his severed Will in each piece.”

( _Fuck,_ whoever had designed this armour had to have been in a bad place)

He stood up abruptly, “We need to find the head piece.”

“Why-?”

“If all the pieces are united, Wen Ning can mend the Spirit and he can finally vanish in peace. Nie Mingjue deserves that. We’ll go now - it should be safe to leave the other two to watch over Lan Zhan.”

“Right . . .” Lan Sizhui shuffled, “but . . . can you tell who did this?”

“Do we even need to ask?” He pointed to a distinct symbol engraved into the cracks between the pieces, a peony nestled amidst five balloons. The symbol of the Man in the Moon, “Whoever is working with Xue Yang is aiming to get revenge against this ‘big fish’.”

Lan Sizhui blinked and for a moment, he thought the Spirit was about to faint.

Instead, he just gripped his staff tighter and nodded.

“Let’s go.”

The pair of them soared through the sky, eyeing the world below them.

“Where could the head be?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Wei Wuxian muttered, eyes closed as his Mares traversed the whole Earth, looking for even a hint of that monstrous Will.

(The Will of Nie Mingjue)

Fucking hell.

“Good evening, you two.”

His eyes flew open. At his side, Lan Sizhui sharply inhaled.

Clenching his jaw, he slowly turned around.

Standing atop an electric tower, smile as pleasant as ever, stood the Man in the Moon. His golden vest was snug, his top hat whirring with cogs and his skin shone with the golden light all Lunars possessed.

(Too fast, too fast, too fast.

He’d been waiting for them.)

“How is Zewu-Jun?” Wei Wuxian asked companionably, even as Lan Sizhui’s fingers dug into his arm.

Jin Guangyao frowned.

“The finding of the teeth has stabilised him. The loss of any Spirit is, of course, a tragedy, but I was beginning to find myself weary of Father’s little project. I believe I owe you, Wei Wuxian, a particular thanks in dealing with Xue Yang.”

“Don’t mention it,” he blinked, “It’s not the first time I’ve cleaned up your people’s nonsense.”

“I’m sure,” The Man in the Moon tilted his headed to the side, “Speaking of clean up, I believe some of our contraptions have fallen to Earth - would you mind handing them over? I’ll take care of it, I assure you.”

“I’m sure you will,” Wei Wuxian grinned, teeth bared, “Tell me - how do think Zewu-Jun will feel about your whole murdering his beloved sworn brother? I’m sure you’ll be nice and upfront with him about it.”

Jin Guangyao’s smile twitched.

“. . . Wei Wuxian,” he hummed, “You always did love to overestimate your own position of power.”

High above them, the full moon shone, and Wei Wuxian felt his metaphorical hackles rise up.

Jin Guangyao raised a hand.

“It was such a tragedy,” he murmured softly, “the Bogeyman and Jack Frost, killed trying to cover up the Bogeyman’s murder of Chifeng-zun.”

“You _liar_!!” Lan Sizhui screamed and Jin Guangyao’s finger twitched. In that moment, Wei Wuxian hurled the younger Spirit down and his shadows, hidden away to preserve their strength, snatched the Winter Spirit and yanked him down into safety. Jin Guangyao’s frustrated yell ripped apart the night and Wei Wuxian could barely conjure his power in defence before he was bathed in Pure Moonlight.

Lan Sizhui was still screaming as he fell out of the shadows, deep in the heart of the Under Realm.

Wen Ning dropped down to his side immediately, Lan Jingyi at his side.

“Sizhui?! Sizhui, what happened?!”

“Hanguang-Jun,” he stammered, “I need to find Hanguang-Jun now - Senior Wei is fighting the Man in the Moon.”

“What?” Lan Jingyi gaped at him, but he saw the understanding tick in Wen Ning’s head.

“. . . Jin Guangyao killed Chifeng-zun.”

“ _What?!_ ”

“Exactly - the Guardians need to be told!” He stumbled only to gasp as his legs gave out.

Wen Ning was right there, supporting him, “Take it easy - travelling by shadow is difficult for all but Master Wei. Don’t strain yourself.”

“He’s in trouble,” Lan Sizhui whispered, “He’s in trouble and he just threw me aside.”

It suddenly sunk in and he found himself struggling to inhale, “He’s going to _lose_ but he didn’t _need_ me, I was useless to him-”

“Don’t you think he knows that he can’t win?”

He paused, spinning around.

A-Qing blinked at him.

“. . . What are you doing here?”

“I came with a message from His Majesty, but Hanguang-Jun isn’t up yet,” she folded her arms, “but besides that, if the Bogeyman knew that the two of you couldn’t win, don’t you think he deliberately got you out so only one of you would be defeated?”

“. . . I . . . I don’t understand.”

“Jin Guangyao can’t have this knowledge spread,” Wen Ning murmured, “Master Wei prioritised getting at least one person who knows the truth to safety.”

“I’ll get it to His Majesty. And Jiang Wanyin,” A-Qing pounded a hand into her fist, “We’ll make him pay.”

A soft hum filled the room and a delicate light filtered out from the alcove where Lan Wangji was resting. The Reaper immediately vanished, off to check on him and Lan Sizhui slumped back down to his knees, thankful for Lan Jingyi’s reassuring presence at his elbow.

Useless.

He’d been useless.

(What sort of Guardian needed to be sent away and protected? Just who had he fucking saved? What was his point?)

He buried his face in his hands and let out a harsh sob.

_(“A-Yuan! A-Yuan!”)_

He startled up. A-Qing was crouching down beside them, eyes glowing white.

“You still have it, right?” she asked, and he blinked, before reaching down and fishing the tooth box out from the hoodie’s pocket.

The three young Spirits inspected the pulsing box. A-Qing held out her hands and the top glowed, the diamonds unfolding.

“Place your hand on it. And sleep.”

* * *

_“A-Yuan! A-Yuan!”_

_“My little Nightlight~”_ __

_“Come to Granny!”_ __

_“Where have those fingers been?!”_ __

_“A-Yuan! A-Yuan!!”_

_“Come back here, naughty child!”_ __

_“Here, A-Yuan, let this gege tell you a secret~”_ __

“Xian-gege,” Wen Yuan tread carefully, step by step, following the uneven stone path that led out from the Wen’s village, “where are we going today?”

“Hmm~” at his side, the Bogeyman danced over the stones without fear of slipping, “to buy potatoes!!”

“Xian-gege . . .” Wen Yuan sighed. Shifting his grip on the red lantern in his hands, he turned and deftly whacked it into the face of the Spirit next to him.

He turned it back down, lighting up their path as Wei Wuxian squawked.

“Aunty Qing is going to be mad at you.”

“Who cares~?” his companion smiled breezily, “My adorable little Nightlight is turning fifteen! We’re treating ourselves tonight!!”

“I honestly would prefer radishes.”

He sniggered at the Bogeyman’s betrayed gasp, tilting the lantern to offer the other better light as a peace offering. An arm wound around his and Wei Wuxian chuckled.

“Accepted.”

“I’m saying I forgive you. I’m not asking for _your_ forgiveness.”

“Nonsense.” Wei Wuxian tightened the hold, “Everyone should want my forgiveness~”

Wen Yuan rolled his eyes and didn’t complain as the Spirit lifted off the ground, arms still around his young charge’s neck, content to float along behind.

The town at the base of the mountain was familiar with the young teen from the odd village buried up in the hills, none questioning him as he emerged from the crooked path. A few would occasionally see the eerily perfect man, robed in black, trailing in his shadow, but many knew now that he brought nothing more than a bit of mischief.

Today, after all, there was something far more interesting in town.

Wen Yuan was just negotiating a cheaper price from a selection of meat, whilst Wei Wuxian had floated off to harass the potato seller despite their best efforts, when he heard the clamour, as something that sounded like the majority of the village gathered at the far side of the market. Folding the meat up carefully and placing it in his rucksack, he wandered over with the flow of the crowd, whispers flowing from each mouth.

He made his way through the crowd and went still.

A man in all white robes stood in the centre of the marketplace, glancing around, face of stone but panic in his eyes. All of the town sellers were trying to talk to him, some trying to help, others asking where he was from and some just trying to sell their wares to the clearly rich man.

His head tilted Wen Yuan’s way and those eyes glinted, the sort of light that only came with a level of agelessness and Wen Yuan’s breath caught.

Ah.

He was like Xian-gege.

“Um, excuse me?” he elbowed his way closer, “Are you looking for Wei Wuxian?”

The man’s head snapped his way and _holy shit_ those golden eyes were intense. His whole body locked, and he went still.

A small whimper escaped his lips.

The crowd immediately jumped, startled to see the gentle A-Yuan so intimidated, a majority rounding with indignation on this newcomer. The panic in said newcomer’s eyes sparked ever so slightly and Wen Yuan tried to break himself free of his terror, desperately wishing for his gege.

“ _Hello, everyone~_ ”

Speak of the devil.

The whole crowd startled back, the newcomer’s head snapping to the side, as Wei Wuxian seemed to appear from nowhere, draped across that white back, eyes glinting red.

_“Miss me?”_ __

The whole crowd fled, and Wei Wuxian burst into laughter.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you certainly hide many a surprise - who knew you were so scared of crowds~?”

“Wei Ying,” the newcomer growled and Wen Yuan baulked because who the hell called Wei Wuxian something that personal, “do not tease.”

“Mm, why not?”

“Xian-gege,” he intervened, “is this a friend of yours?”

Those golden eyes returned to face him, and he tried not to quiver under that stern expression. Wei Wuxian was a soothing alternative to fixate upon, rolling his tongue around.

“You could call him my colleague, I suppose. He’s a Spirit like me! Or I suppose you’re a Guardian~ now, aren’t you?”

Wen Yuan knew that look. It always spelt trouble and judging by the newcomer’s expression, he knew it too. However, with great effort, he turned back to Wen Yuan.

“You are?”

“Mine!” Wei Wuxian declared cheerfully and proudly, switching his spot at the newcomer’s shoulder for Wen Yuan’s instead. “My beloved little Nightlight~”

The newcomer frowned and yeah maybe he should clear that up.

“Umm, my name is Wen Yuan,” the newcomer’s face twitched and Wen Yuan’s shoulders drew up defensively, “I live in the hills.”

The newcomer continued to frown at him.

Wei Wuxian shifted around to hug Wen Yuan from the side, “Don’t be offset by that face - he always looks like that! This is Lan Wangji!”

Wen Yuan blinked, before flushing slightly. Oh, he knew that name.

(It was the one his whole family were convinced Wei Wuxian was in the midst of pining after)

“So anyway, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian bounced back over, hair flying everywhere, “What brings you here?”

“. . . Request.”

“Really?” Wei Wuxian tilted his head, “It’s not New Years. Surely an assistant could have come for something minor . . .”

He was met with silence.

Ah.

Wen Yuan couldn’t help arching an eyebrow, lips twitching as he watched Lan Wangji refused to meet Wei Wuxian’s gaze, ears red.

(Maybe Wei Wuxian wasn’t the only one pining)

“Why don’t we have lunch then?” he offered brightly.

Lan Wangji turned to stare at him in shock. Beside them, Wei Wuxian brightened up, clapping.

“That sounds wonderful - come on, Lan Zhan, we know the area super well! We could help you with your request.”

“. . . That is-”

“Oh hush,” Wei Wuxian grabbed both their wrists and pulled them towards one of his preferred taverns, “come, come! We should catch up.”

(Wen Yuan refrained from commenting on the pleased look on Lan Wangji’s face)

The tavernkeeper was well used to him, though he did visibly double take at the man in white beside him. Wen Yuan didn’t turn in surprise, though it was a near thing as he ordered a table for three. The tavern keeper was a staunch disbeliever, had always humoured Wen Yuan’s request for a second seat as childish fantasies he was indulging. Yet he could clearly see the other Spirit.

Everyone in town had, he realised with a jolt. Not just the believers.

“How come everyone can see you?” he asked, immediately after sitting down, “Even those who really know about Xian-gege occasionally pass him over.”

Animals and kids saw him best. Those that personally knew him never lost the Sight. Adults who had interacted with him drifted in and out. Those who didn’t care never saw anything.

(He had asked if it got lonely, living invisible to most of the world, but Wei Wuxian had just laughed and changed the topic)

Lan Wangji blinked at him, not responding.

Wei Wuxian let out a slight huff, “It’s because he’s a Guardian, A-Yuan,” he filled in cheerfully, ignoring the frown quickly sent his way, “it’s this whole special Vow some of us have taken. One of the perks is that you’re pretty much guaranteed to always be seen.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji’s voice was tight, “Sharing secrets with mortals is forbidden.”

It was a rebuke and Wen Yuan stiffened.

Wei Wuxian shrugged, flippant and squeezed Wen Yuan’s shoulders comfortingly, “Sure, but A-Yuan’s not just any mortal. He’s my Nightlight!”

Lan Wangji’s frown just deepened. Wen Yuan sighed, “Xian-gege, I think you’re harassing him.”

“Maybe~”

“Stop it.”

The Master of Fear pouted mightily and Wen Yuan just rolled his eyes, far too used to his Spirit’s crocodile tears. Instead he turned and bowed slightly to the Guardian.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lan Wangji. I am sorry for Xian-gege’s . . . everything.”

“Oi,” Wei Wuxian poked him, “where’s this complete lack of filial loyalty coming from?”

He stuck out his tongue to a shocked gasp.

(He thought Lan Wangji almost looked longing)

The lunch continued on in the same vein, him exchanging his usual commentary against his immature companion, whilst the Spirit in white watched in silence, only absently nibbling on the red food.

(No talking whilst eating)

He froze, frowning and clutching his head. Where had that thought come from?

“A-Yuan?” Wei Wuxian tilted his head, eyes wide and sincere, “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes,” he shook himself, “Just lost in thought.”

“It is getting late,” Wei Wuxian agreed, “Come on, let’s get you back to the village.”

Lan Wangji straightened, shuffling in place and Wen Yuan knew the question on his lips.

Their village was a secret. One Wei Wuxian had been quite vocal about keeping it as such. Politeness dictated that, if Lan Wangji knew that stance, he would leave and remain in the dark about the location of Wei Wuxian’s believers.

(He very clearly didn’t want to leave)

“Xian-gege,” he touched the lightest of fingers against the conflicted Spirit, “why don’t we invite this White-gege up for some tea?”

Wei Wuxian turned to him, speculative.

(Lan Wangji turned to him in surprise)

The Bogeyman immediately beamed.

“Yep! Sounds good! Come on, Lan Zhan!” 

He took the other’s wrist and virtually dragged him out. We Yuan hurried to scoop up his lantern, dropping the correct number of coins on the table and hurrying after them.

As they reached the base off the mountain, before he could light his lantern, Lan Wangji casually flicked his finger and it came on all on its own.

“Excellent!” Wei Wuxian floated around them both, beaming ear to ear.

(Lan Wangji drank in the sight)

“Nightlight~ If you would?”

“Yes, yes,” he held up the red lantern, lighting up the path and the trio slowly wound their way up the mountain path.

Whatever the Guardian of Light had been expecting, it wasn’t the ramshackle assortment of wooden houses, centred around a communal fire pit.

“Welcome!” Wei Wuxian proudly announced, “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

Their village was built against a mountain that housed one of the few mortal entrances to the Under Realm. The shadows spilling forth from the realm stretched over the mountain, plunging it into almost unending gloom, the sort of gloom that prevents plants from growing, animals from thriving. Lanterns dotted every house simply to see and the thin people passed by each other, watching the gathering curiously.

“It’s not a lot,” Wen Yuan felt the need to defend, “but it’s safe. It’s good.”

“We’ve made so many changes!” Wei Wuxian dragged his colleague around, “It’s barely been fourteen years you know! Human lives are so much quicker than ours - that fire pit took two years to properly fix, oh, oh! and those houses! They kept falling down until we figured it out! You should have seen how happy everyone was, oh, it was _wonderful-”_

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji’s voice bordered on scolding, “You are not a mortal. You should not invest yourselves too deeply in their affairs.”

More than a few people stopped to stare at the figure.

(More than a few glared in defence of their protector)

Wei Wuxian just laughed dismissive, “Oh come on, you know that’s not me!” He floated through the air, black sand swaying him side to side, “Imagine, the Bogeyman, somewhere _not_ cast in darkness. Goodness knows what the others would do to me.”

“That does not mean you should never interact with Spirits.”

“Who wants to?” The Bogeyman rolled his eyes, “I have a Wen Ning - that’s plenty. I don’t need a bunch of stuffy immortals telling me what I can and can’t do.”

“So, you are happy here?” Lan Wangji asked, frowning, “In this day-by-day life?”

Wei Wuxian stilled, slowly sliding out of the air.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, I’m trying to be a good host here - at least give me some face and speak upfront.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji stepped forward, “Become a Guardian.”

(It was the wrong thing to say)

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders bunched up and his smile faltered, the tiniest of peeks at the darkness he worked so hard to shove down. Wen Yuan reached out and quickly gripped his hand.

He felt the Spirit jolt, before Wi Wuxian flashed him a look, settled down slightly and gripped his hand in return.

He shifted his gaze back to the Guardian of Light.

“For the last time, Lan Zhan,” he spoke firmly, “my answer is _no_. I refuse to be put on Jin Guangshan’s leash.”

Lan Wangji huffed, almost frustrated, “It is not a leash-”

“Do you believe repeating it enough times will make it true?” Wei Wuxian’s voice flickered with venom, eyes sparked with red.

(His hand trembled in Wen Yuan’s.)

“Do you really see me so unruly, Lan Zhan? Can’t possibly be left to my own devices?”

The Guardian’s face faltered, conflicted, but he said nothing in his defence. Wei Wuxian just grew more agitated.

“Why _should_ I join the Guardians anyway?” he demanded, “Power? I could rival you all on a _bad_ day. My reputation’s in tatters so fat chance the name will give me anything.”

“. . . You have no allies.”

“No allies?” Wei Wuxian scoffed, “I have Wen Ning. I have this village. It might surprise you, but I’m content with that.”

_“Wei Ying!”_

“Lan Zhan.” The Bogeyman blinked slowly, “Are you perhaps implying that _you’d_ be my ally? You’ve made it abundantly clear that you’d really rather not.”

Lan Wangji flinched.

“You’d be just as likely to stab me in the back as my enemies.” Wei Wuxian huffed, turning his back to the Guardian and burying his face in his hands. Lan Wangji stretched out his hand, stricken.

“Wei Ying-”

“Go.”

“. . . I-”

“You _what_?” The Bogeyman twisted back around, scowling, “For fuck’s sake, yell at me, scream at me, even try to kill me! Don’t just stand there **_judging me_!!**” ****

His voice thundered across the whole village, the mortals all pausing in their tasks to observe their Spirit and his strange guest.

“Hanguang-Jun,” Wen Yuan stood up and stepped slightly in front of Wei Wuxian, “I think it best you leave.”

He hoped his eyes conveyed his apology.

The Guardian of Light just stared at him.

(He looked so lost)

“. . . Yes.”

“See you whenever, I guess,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “Thanks for lunch. No offence but I doubt our paths will cross for a very long time, ‘Guardian’.”

Lan Wangji bit down, ever so slightly, on his lower lip, “. . . Yes. Farewell, Wei Ying.”

He gave Wen Yuan a short nod, before a troupe of lanterns lit up around him, swirling and twirling until he vanished in a flash of light.

Wei Wuxian promptly collapsed, crumpling to his knees, hands in his face. Wen Yuan dropped down beside him.

“Xian-gege?”

“I’m fine,” the Spirit mumbled, “just fine.”

Unlikely. Wen Yuan turned to one of his older cousins, watching anxiously.

“Get Aunty Qing.”

The man nodded, hurrying off through the crowd, several others splitting in other directions to help. He merely turned back to the Spirit.

“Do you want to go back into your realm?”

“. . . Just the entrance,” Wei Wuxian mumbled, “Wen Qing will be awfully pissed if she gets called out, only to find herself locked out.”

He smiled, helped Wei Wuxian up and lead him to the highest point of the clearing. The cliff rose up sharply, and right at the base of the climb, a single hole in the ground shivered, darkness peeking out, staining the whole mountain in shadow. He rested his gege right on the edge, and the Spirit exhaled, sinking his hands into the shadows and closing his eyes

Something shivered behind Wen Yuan and he turned. “Uncle Ning.”

His Uncle returned his hug, frowning, “What happened?”

“A Spirit named Lan Wangji appeared. He and Xian-gege argued.”

“That Hanguang-Jun did?” Wen Ning’s frowned deeper and he drifted next to his best friend, the pair speaking in hushed tones. Wen Yuan just rekindled his lantern and held it up, a spotlight amidst the shadow for his Aunt to spy.

She came in a flutter of red and white, hair battering in the breeze. Pushing forty, the doctor made quite a pair with her immortal younger brother, the few wrinkles beginning to show on her fast a drastic contrast to a similar shaped face that would instead remain forever unmarred.

“Thank you, A-Yuan,” she pat his head a couple of times, “you can go back to your room. We’ll be down shortly for dinner.”

“. . . Yes.” He sent the Spirit one last glance, “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yes, he’s just suffering a severe inflammation of his idiocy.” She nudged him along, “I’m sure he’ll moan about it to you later.”

Wen Yuan’s lips lifted up into a faint smile and hurried back down.

Sure enough, after dinner was eaten and cleaned (a surprise rice cake brought out for the birthday boy), the whole village scattered into their small little ramshackle houses, and the Master of Fear trailed after the fifteen-year-old, all whilst ranting about their white robed visitor.

“I’m glad to see you’ve perked up, Xian-gege,” he remarked wryly and the Spirit scoffed.

“I’m always perky!”

“Yes, yes,” he couldn’t help laughing at the resulting look. Wei Wuxian drifted closer, watching him as he changed for bed and washed his teeth in a small water basin.

“. . . You’ve really started to talk back.”

“What gave it away?” he smiled, and Wei Wuxian wailed.

“Nooo! My cute little A-Yuan is taking after his _aunt_! What a tragedy!”

“You’re just saying that because Aunty Qing doesn’t put up with all your nonsense.”

“Exactly! Quite unreasonable.”

Wen Yuan huffed, blew out his candle, and climbed into his bed.

“Xian-gege, would you play for me?”

The Spirit laughed, settling down next to him, “Do you even have to ask?”

“. . . Xian-gege?”

“Yes?”

“Doesn’t it bother you? Not being on speaking terms with the other Spirits?”

Wei Wuxian sent him an absent smile, pulled out a long black flute and began to play.

Wen Yuan immediately felt his eyes droop, shadows pulling at his conscious. Above him, golden sand danced, the black sands safely diverted towards the Bogeyman.

His eyelids fluttered and he slumped lower, feeling fingers smoothing back his hair.

“Good night, my Little Nightlight~”

“Wake up!”

He lurched upright, to find Wen Qing crouched over his bed, her face tight with anxiety.

“. . . Aunty?”

“Up!!” She whacked his arm and he scrambled out from the sheets, “Get your things immediately.”

“ _What?”_

Screams echoed from outside and his head shot up, tiredness fleeing in an instant, finally processing the racket coming in from out his room. 

“. . . Aunty-?”

“Like I said,” the woman spoke, clinical and severe, “get your things.”

He didn’t waste any time, grabbing his most previous belongings and shoving them into a sack, hurrying out of his shack and freezing in place.

The whole village was on fire, blood pouring down the streets. His family ran for their lives, as . . . as . . .

An army was advancing.

Each and every one of their faces was porcelain smooth, gold dust shining from each. Their clothes were golden, sand and metal clockwork protruding from mechanical limbs, implanted eyes and pulsing eyes. Each of them wielded odd weapons,

(The weapons of the Guardians?)

Wen Yuan blinked, clutching his head. Where had _that_ come from?

A scream jolted him, and he watched as one of his aunts thumped against the ground, two swords shoved through her chest, her husband hitting the ground beside her with an arrow of gold sand in his head. 

“WEN YUAN!!”

He startled, turning and sprinting after his Aunt. The two tore their way through the burning houses, screams around them as the soldiers massacred their way through the innocents. They ducked the fire and falling rubble, almost out of the limits when a soldier came at them, a mighty sword bared, glowing with light.

(How _dare_ he imitate _Bichen_?!)

He stumbled, shaking his head, when his Aunt screamed.

He yelled, locked in place, as the blade dug into her side. She bared her teeth and the soldier couldn’t react before two nails went straight through his eyes. Gold sand and cogs burst free as she shoved the two needles straight through into the Lunar soldier’s brain.

How did he know they were Lunar soldiers?

He was distracted by his Aunt’s gasp, as she gripped the blade still in the side.

“Aunty!”

“The entrance,” she snapped, “get me there.”

He nodded, swung her shoulder over his own and began to stumble the last bit of the way up the mountain side.

“Where’s Xian-gege? Or Uncle Ning?!”

“Out working.” His Aunt grit her teeth against the pain, as they reached the Under Realm’s entrance, “Cowards ambushed us whilst we were unguarded.”

“What do we do?”

“You’re going to hide,” she shoved her bag into his arms, “hide and whatever you do, don’t you _dare_ come out.”

“What about you?!”

Wen Qing square her jaw, “I’m getting Wei Wuxian’s attention.”

She turned to the hole in the cliff. The darkness beyond it writhed with something unfathomable.

Wen Yuan swallowed, “No. You know what he says - going in there without Xian-gege-!”

“I KNOW!!”

She gripped his shoulders and he stiffened. His aunt exhaled, shoulders slumping.

“I _know_ , A-Yuan. But I have to try. If they return, the rest of our family will be safe.”

He swallowed thickly, “Yes.”

“Good boy,” she held his face and stared into his eyes for a long moment, before determinedly nodding and yanking out the sword. As her side began to stain with blood, she closed her eyes and stepped into the abyss.

Wen Yuan sprinted in the trees with Wen Qing’s scream in his ears. He could vaguely see shapes through the trees and desperately tried to avoid them, pausing only when he ran smack into a young child.

“Yuan-gege,” she cried, “Yuan-gege, I can’t find Ma.”

“Come with me then,” he took her hand, guiding her through the trees, “Where are your brothers?” 

“D-dunno.”

The trees were beginning to burn, and he swallowed and began looking more intently. He found six (too few, too _few_ ) of the village’s children, fingers to his lips as he began guiding them down through the darkness, the Moon hidden by the trees above.

“Gege,” one of the youngest whimpered, “Gege, I’m scared.”

“I know,” he crouched down, brushed aside some of the little one’s hair, “I am too.”

The children all whimpered, and he shushed them.

“But listen to me. It will be okay. There will be an end to this.”

“Promise?” one of the girls asked and he smiled reassuringly.

“Promise,” he linked pinkies with her, “There is always an end to conflict.”

The lights in the trees grew brighter and he inhaled silently, standing and hurrying away.

(They weren’t going to make it. Lunar Soldiers could track a single baby Tooth across the whole Earth)

He shook his head. What _,_ what, _what?_

They came out on the far side of the mountain, where the path wound down, the cliff face dropping off to the right and the town at the foot of the mountains in sight.

The lights were too close.

“Go,” he urged them, “go down there and wait - the townspeople will keep you safe.”

“Gege-”

“Go.” He urged, nudging them along. After a moment, they all began scrambling down the path. Wen Yuan watched them go, took a deep, calming breath, before picking up the nearest stick and smashing it into a nearby tree trunk. Calls echoed through the trees and he sprinted through the forest, running along the edge of the cliff, smashing the branch back and forth.

He almost made it.

A golden arrow caught his right shoulder and he gasped as he went down, scrambling for purchase as his fingers tumbled over the cliff’s loose stones.

“Wait!”

The Lunar soldiers, marching out from the trees paused, all watching as he struggled to his feet.

Clutching the arrow, he just straightened out his shoulders and faced them.

“Since I was a child, Wei Wuxian has told me stories of the people of the Moon. Brave, honourable soldiers, who fought and won the War of the Stars. Who watch over all of humanity.”

He glared them down, “I’ve believed in you all my whole life. Is that worth _nothing_ to you? Does our loyalty to the Spirits make us deserving of this slaughter?”

He panted heavily, releasing the arrow and straightening up properly, “Just how much do you owe us? To what extent are you trampling on that without honour?”

A couple of them hesitated. Some of them turned to their leader.

One of them shrugged. 

“Orders are orders, kid. Sorry. It’s nothing personal-”

He yelled as Wen Yuan tackled him. Gears and golden metalwork whirred and hissed, as hands of sand and metal struggled to yank him off.

(Just a bit longer)

He never stayed still, letting go and charging another one before his current target could get a good grip on him.

(Just a bit longer)

His lungs heaved, his shoulder was warm with blood, but his eyes were fixed down the path, the signs of the others getting to safety.

The entire cliffside lit up like a spotlight, a beacon of pure moonlight focused down. He stumbled glancing up and that was all the warning he got before a sword plunged through his body.

A Lunar man, unarmored, wearing a neat little golden vest, smiled at him, flicking blood off a sword styled in horrifying imitation of Zewu-Jun’s.

“Don’t be too offended, child. This is something far greater than your little refugee village could understand.”

(Jin Guangyao)

He removed the sword and Lan Sizhui stumbled back, his blood splattering the stones, as his eyes drifted down.

(A small band of silhouettes reached the light of the town at the base of the mountain, stumbling where the Lunar soldiers couldn’t risk revealing themselves.)

Safe.

They were safe.

Relief filled him, so visceral and bright as he stumbled and stepped back.

He didn’t even have time to scream as he plunged down, body free falling only for the briefest of moments, before he shattered through the ice and plunged into the freezing water at the base of the cliff.

(Alone in the smoking ruins, two figures descended in a tornado of shadow and black sand, arriving to pure silence save for the last of the crackling fire.

One fell to his knees, shadow marked cloaked pooling around his hunched body, as he lifted up a red lantern with trembling fingers. 

“Look,” his companion returned to his side, voice thick with anger, a single blood-stained needle digging into his bloodless palm, “wounds from feathered blades and the Zidan. And . . . and the sword of Light.”

His Master merely pressed his forehead to the ground, dug his nails into the ash and dirt and S C R E A M E D)

He didn’t know how long he drifted in the cold.

Didn’t know how long it took for hair to turn white. How much magic was needed to turn dark eyes to vivid purple. How much power needed to form before his body was remade, delicate as snow.

On the edges of his vision, darkness twisted, as far as he could see.

It was dark and it was _cold_.

And he was scared.

(The darkness would protect him)

And then?

Then he saw the Moon.

(Fire, blood, screams)

The Moon was big. It was bright. It chased the darkness away.

(He was drawn towards it, up, up, up, cracking through the ice and)

* * *

Lan Sizhui snapped awake, taking in a desperate inhale.

(A-Yuan.

Nightlight

 _The Moon_.)

“Sizhui?” Lan Jingyi was crouched down beside him, eyes wide and open and curious and he found himself stammering.

“J-Jingyi? D-did you see?”

“See what?” there was a hand rubbing circles into his back. It was nice.

He just held up the box.

“This?”

Lan Jingyi shook his head.

“You know the only one who can see the memories is the one holding the box, right?” A-Qing added beside him, but Lan Sizhui was already lurching up to his feet.

“It wasn’t the Guardians.”

“What?”

“Our village!” Lan Sizhui burst out, “It was the Lunars, it wasn’t the Guardians.”

“‘Your’ village?” Lan Jingyi echoed, completely confused, “Sizhui, what-?”

“They didn’t all die.” Lan Sizhui began pacing, ignoring his cousin, “There were kids. I _saved_ them.”

“Sizhui.”

That caught all their attention.

Lan Wangji emerged from the small alcove in the Under Realm, eyes freshly lit. Lan Sizhui flew over to his side, hair whipping in a turbulent wind of his own making.

“That night at the pond,” he immediately began rambling, “when you found me. I’ve always just assumed you stumbled across my revival but you . . . for a moment, you called me A-Yuan. You’ve known? This whole time?”

“. . . Mm.”

“Why did you never say anything?”

“You never asked.” Lan Wangji placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down onto the ground, “You never felt the need to remember.”

Lan Sizhui inhaled, gripping the hand. His next words were quiet, whispered, “I _saved_ them, Father.”

“Yes.”

“I . . . I’m a Guardian.”

Lan Wangji gently nodded. Lan Sizhui just fiddled with the Guardian of Light’s hand, breathing heavily, before he suddenly startled and glanced around, the various Spirits all watching anxiously but still trying to give them a small modicum of privacy.

Someone was still missing.

“Wait,” his words choked in his throat, “where’s Xian-gege?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> other chapter title options: Wen Yuan's Bad Day, Author Cannot Not end a chapter without someone getting compromised, We enter the Realm where mortal subconscious collides into an ever shifting realm of lunacy and impermanence, Lan Wangji v Small Beds
> 
> the novel: People conspired against wwx, which combined with his own hubris and lack of control to make him do bad things  
> the drama: people conspired against wwx and made it look like he did bad things  
> my fic: wwx did bad things, no other people present to involve themselves with the actual Murdering  
> me: perfectly balanced as all things should be
> 
> Final role cast:  
> WQ: the Conscious of the Under Realm
> 
> So i guess if last chapter was for the Wen Ning stans, today's was for the Lan Sizhui stans? Am I just catering to Wen family stans?
> 
> Okay, this chapter was pushing my day deadline but it's in and i'm DEAD but it's Fine I'm Fine everything's FINE
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented last chapter! We're almost there! 9K a day, but only one more day to go!  
> However, since tomorrow IS christmas, I probably will post the last chapter on boxing day since 1) I'm really starting to get tired from this thing hence the Mess that is this chapter and 2) it's Christmas and I'm doing family and present stuff all day and don't want to shut myself away to binge write  
> BUT BOXING DAY IT WILL BE HERE
> 
> Once again, thank you everyone!


	6. Moon's Haunted *loads gun*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still Christmas if you believe it is!!  
> HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!!

To say Wei Wuxian was awake . . . well, it wasn’t _wrong_ , but it certainly wasn’t right.

He was physically conscious, and the pain in his skull and back certainly made him desire a return to sleep. Unfortunately, everything else was . . . murky.

Not actually murky. There was so much light around him, he doubted a single shadow was capable of obscuring vision. Unfortunately, it was beginning to fuck with him.

Somewhere, beyond the light drenching his whole body, preventing him from so much as scratching at his shadows, a door opened.

_Good evening, Wei Wuxian._

“You as well, Meng Yao,” he mumbled around very numb lips, “or, wait, it’s Lianfang-zun now right? Fuck I’m out of the loop.”

_1300 years would do that, I’m sure._

He groaned, and tried to twist, but only found himself locked in place.

He just let out a huge sigh.

 _Sorry about all this. If you were to touch the ground, it would make a shadow_.

“Yeah, I got that bit.” He released another groan, “Fuck, when did you make this thing anyway?”

_Oh, don’t be too offended. The prototype was designed to contain Xue Yang._

“He broke out though, right?”

_Sadly, yes. We hence upgraded it a bit. I’m flattered it holds the Bogeyman just as well._

He pouted, closing his eyes against the glared as he felt delicate metal fingers wrapping around his wrists and ankles, the lunar technology more than capable of doing all the work for Jin Guangyao without him needing to even approach the Bogeyman.

 _I have no real quarrel against you, Wei Wuxian_. Jin Guangyao mused idly into his brain, _We are both victims of a true perpetrator. I was quite content to leave you be - but you always have to stick a wrench in the world’s order, don’t you?_

He kept his face flat.

“If there’s a place to jam a wrench, then that just means the world’s order has a flaw in the design.” He mused, lips tweaking up, “So that’s why the ones you have to be careful of are the ones who cling to order too much~”

 _I’m sure your philosophies are very interesting, but I really don’t have the time_ , the voice hardened, something cold and all too intense, _I’ll ask once. Where is Da-ge’s head?_

“Fuck if I know.”

Moonlight burnt into his body and he ground his teeth, his power circuits fluctuating rather alarmingly as they tried to protect him.

 _Hmm,_ Jin Guangyao’s only sounded vaguely thoughtful, _You were heading out to seek it. You have only acquired most of the body._

“Fifty points! OW, fuck, man, lay off.”

 _Do you know where it is then?_ Jin Guangyao ignored him, _Any clue as to where it might be?_

“Nope.”

 _But you could find out,_ Jin Guangyao crooned, _your eyes stretch where mine cannot._

Wei Wuxian paused.

(Was he serious?)

His fists clenched tighter, nails biting in.

“I think you’re reaching here, if you really believe I’d ever help you hide the evidence of your murder.”

 _A pity,_ Jin Guangyao let out what might have been a sigh, but telepathy was iffy at translating voice expression at the best of times, _As it is, I’m offering you a hand. You’d be wise to take me up on it._

He grinned, “Eh, well. Fear and Wisdom never really went hand in hand.” __Another sigh.

_I see._

Wei Wuxian screamed as the light intensified. His body exploded into black sand, desperately trying to protect itself, but whatever field was holding him in place just wrenched him back together, panting.

_You’ll break._

“Oh please,” Wei Wuxian bared his teeth in a grin, “I can keep going however long it takes for you to get bored.” __

 _Mm, yes, that’s too long,_ Jin Guangyao tilted his head, _You’re staying stronger than I thought you would. That’s the Power of Belief, I suppose._

Wei Wuxian stiffened.

_It was such an odd name . . . Mo Xuanyu._

(No.

No no no.)

 _He avoids the full moon too, you know?_ The Man on the Moon’s voice crooned, _He picked it up from you. But the Council sees everything - it was simple to find._

“JIN GUANG-!!”

The light intensified and he cut himself off to dry heave.

_I’ll be back soon to return to the matter of your cooperation - after all, there’s only one of them this time._

The door shut as Wei Wuxian stared up, eyes wide and mouth slack.

Slowly, he let his mouth fall open as he howled his rage. 

The small group waiting in the Under Realm had been spread around the innermost cranny, partaking in various forms of distraction, but they all rose to their feet immediately as the entrance shifted itself open and Wen Ning floated through.

“Wei Ying?”

The Spirit of Death shook his head, mouth flat, “Nothing. But part of the street had been scorched by moon fire.”

Lan Wangji’s jaw clenched, hands tightening around his sword.

“Do you think they might have taken him to the moon?” Lan Jingyi whispered, but the anxiety on the faces of the three youngest were swayed as both seniors shook their heads.

“Passage between the Moon and Earth is difficult.” Lan Wangji explained, “it cannot just be done.”

“Lianfang-zun has spent a lot of his energy descending here,” Wen Ning added, in that soft, breathy voice of his, “he won’t be able to ascend for at least twenty-four hours.”

“So, Xian-gege was right, then?” Lan Sizhui glanced between them, “Whoever’s leaving these hands was deliberately trying to expose him?”

Both of them nodded.

“Jin Guangyao is untouchable whilst he presides over the Lunar Council,” Lan Wangji murmured, “On Earth, he is just a Spirit.”

“A Spirit with an Army,” Wen Ning pointed out, “and who knows what else the Council hoarded from Xue Yang’s time up there.”

“Whenever he descends, he stays at the Workshop,” Lan Jingyi glanced around them, “he can’t bring an army there!”

“He can,” Lan Sizhui shook his head, “if the Bogeyman stands as a threat.”

“A threat who killed Chifeng-zun,” Wen Ning growled, “he’ll bury this all and blame it on Master Wei.”

“Whoever is orchestrating this won’t let that happen right?” Lan Jingyi stared up at the incensed Reaper, slightly spooked, “They’ll strike back.”

“Whoever is orchestrating this was willing to kill the Guardians to do so,” A-Qing pointed out, rainbow wings bunched up protectively around herself, “I don’t think we can count on them all that much.”

“They’ll be Jin Guangyao’s target. Along with the armour.”

“He’ll have taken Wei Ying alive,” Lan Wangji’s hand were tight around his sword, “to have someone there to blame when he catches the rest.”

“Whilst Jin Guangyao looks for the armour.”

“How could he not have found it? The entire Lunar Observatory reports to the Council!”

“A Moon can only see so much. They haven’t caught the rest, have they?”

“Quiet.”

They all fell silent, turning to the Guardian of Light as he produced a small sphere from his robes.

A small pulsing sphere.

“Zewu-Jun!” both of the younger Spirits gathered around him, but Lan Wangji held up a hand.

“It is prerecorded. His crystal broke whilst he sent it.”

They all fell silent as he played, the warbled message.

“ . . . -angji . . . -ei Wuxia . . . Work-op . . . A-Yao . . . Believer . . . Find . . . the BeLiEveR-”

There wasn’t a single cloud in the night sky as the party arrived at the small apartment, the Moon shining slightly too brightly considering it had been New barely three days ago.

“Do you think he knows we’re here?”

“Um, you think?” Lan Jingyi gestured pointedly at the huge white spotlight hanging in the sky above them and his cousin pulled a face.

“It’s all right, A-Yuan,” Wen Ning assured him, “Just wait.”He turned, floated up to one of the apartment windows and knocked lightly against it.

After a moment, he waved for them to come up.

“Is this really okay?” Lan Jingyi leant over and Lan Sizhui squeezed his hand, floating up to join the Reaper’s side, right as the window as pulled open.

“Wen Ning?” Mo Xuanyu greeted, yawning, “What’s going on? Where’s Wei Wuxian?”

“Can I come in?”

The mortal arched an eyebrow, nevertheless stepping aside and waiting for the three spirits to enter before shutting it once more.

He frowned at the Lans.

“And who are you guys?”

“Lan Jingyi, Winter Solstice.”

“Lan Sizhui, Jack Frost.”

They both properly saluted to him and the human stammered a bit, “Err, Mo Xuanyu. Human?”

Wen Ning patted his shoulder reassuringly as he floated around the room, black sand wafting from his feet.

“You were right, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“About Hanguang-Jun.”

The human blinked a couple of times, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, before it clicked.

“Um, of fucking course I was. Let me guess he hasn’t figured it out yet?”

Wen Ning snorted. “He’d better.”

He waved at the two Spirits hovering awkwardly to the side and Lan Sizhui dropped forward.

“Um, Mo Xuanyu?”

“Yes?”

He bowed his head, “We have reason to believe you’re in danger. As a representative of the Guardians, allow me to promise you that we will keep you safe.”

“What?” Mo Xuanyu’s expression flickered, perplexed, “Who’d want to hurt _me_?”

“Your Master Wei’s sole believer,” Wen Ning explained, fiddling with some sand near the apartment’s threshold, “without you, he’s rendered powerless.”

“Yeah, like I’m totally going to stop believing in him because someone tries to rough me up a bit.”

Wen Ning looked up at him pointedly.

The human swallowed. “. . . Oh.”

“It should be secure enough,” Wen Ning coasted into a corner to half submerge himself into the shadow, “but Master Wei and I aren’t exactly powerful against the Moon.”

“We just need to wait for Hanguang-Jun to get back with Senior Wei,” Lan Jingyi hugged himself, “we can last that long right?”

(Against the Moon)

Silence hung between them and Mo Xuanyu let out a faint snort.

“That’s reassuring.”

“Oh, if only we’d gotten the head!” Lan Sizhui burst out, “Lianfang-zun clearly wants the body to be kept separate!”

“Of course he does,” Wen Ning blinked, “Chifeng-zun’s entire being desires vengeance. As soon as it is united, that Will will hunt down Lianfang-zun and eradicate him. It would do all our work for us.”

“Maybe we missed it somewhere?” Lan Jingyi wondered, “It could be down in the Warrens . . .”

“It wouldn’t have been missed,” Wen Ning shook his head, “Chifeng-zun’s battle mask is distinct and detailed. He was, after all, the Spirit of Halloween.”

They were both looking at him intently and he frowned.

“It was . . . some form of beast, with huge bared teeth, a thickset brow and curling horns. It was pitch black.”

“Wait you mean something like this? Though, this one was gold.”

They all turned, finding Mo Xuanyu roughly sketching the head of a ferocious beast on his notepad.

Wen Ning frowned.

“. . . Yes. Exactly like that.”

“Because it was delivered to my workplace, like, this morning. We tried to return it but there wasn’t a sender.”

In a rush of wind, all three Spirits gathered around him, tense.

“. . . Do you think we could risk it?” Lan Jingyi hissed, glancing a bit excitedly, at the Reaper.

Wen Ning frowned.

“. . . Our task-”

“Please, Uncle!” Lan Sizhui clutched his staff tightly, “We can do this!”

“It sounds better than just waiting around for someone to ambush us.” Mo Xuanyu pointed us.

The Spirit of Death closed his eyes, took in a slow breath and then exhaled.

“A-Yuan? Get a sack.”

Lan Wangji came out of the portal right above the Workshop.

Snow was whipping across the North Pole, ice in the wind, and alone, built on the edge of the cliff, the immense fortress stood protected from the weather, barriers thousands of years old keeping the building preserved.

High above, the Moon hung, pools of moonlight stretching down, and Lunar soldiers patrolled the border.

The Guardian of Light tested his blade. Its shine was weak, still fragile, but it was enough.

Flying down to the back, the sleigh’s ramp was as unprotected as ever, and he soared in, flying up through the tunnels of ice, resisting the urge to rekindle all the lanterns meant to guide the way.

“Second Master!!”

A chorus of voices met him, yetis, Spirits and elves alike all gathered around the sleigh’s shed. Shrieking echoed from within, the dwindling of Santa Claus’ power allowing the mighty beasts to act against their taming.

He lighted down, and simply held out a hand to silence them all.

“Where is Brother?”

“Zewu-Jun is with Lianfang-zun!” One Spirit called out, “They left twenty minutes ago.”(Without the sleigh?)

“How is he?”

They all exchanged nervous glances.

“Worse condition than you,” one of the yetis spoke and he nodded curtly.

(He hid the tremble in his hands by clenching them behind his back)“What about the Lunar soldiers?”

“Lianfang-Zun says the Bogeyman might attack!” One Spirit cried, and all of the elves began running around like headless chickens. He scowled and every single one of them froze.

“Uncle?”

“Elder Lan has not left his tower.” One admitted and he sighed internally, nevertheless floating into the air.

“Send word that I am here to him. Do not allow it to reach the Lunars.”

“Sir!”

They all bowed and he just soared straight past them, eyes closed and senses stretched. He wove his way up around their huge globe (so so dim), his destination the locked workshop at one of the uppermost balconies.

His Brother’s personal workshop was always freezing, his immense ice sculptures spread across the whole room, but Lan Wangji just ignored them. He dropped down onto the ground, throwing aside part of the carpet and accidentally breaking part of a toy train track, to reveal the trap door underneath. He wedged his sword in the iron ring and heaved open the door only he and his brother had the strength to do so.

Dropping down into the private room beneath, his lips thinned.

Moonlit footsteps stained the ground, gold dust glittered across the wall, and even a few stray mechanical canes and hats had been placed on one of the tables.

Aside from that, it is was empty.

He ground his teeth, turning to leave.

(No)

His shoulders crawled and he forced himself to still, to breath and to think. Refused to let his panic rule him.

(“Fear isn’t a bad thing, Lan Zhan. It’s not good either. It just is. It tells us when to go and when to wait - it’s an old friend. Treat it as such, with respect and only then can we truly face it. To deny it? You’re just running away from it.”)

He shut his eyes and felt his senses, turning back towards the centre the private room with his hand outstretched.

He took a single, large step forward.

(His hands glanced over something, warm and smooth)

Exhaling, he stepped back, both drawing and setting his sword on fire in one motion, as he reeled back the mighty wagon and swung it horizontally.

It collided with an invisible something, and the protective mirage shattered as the cage of light was cleaved apart by Bichen.

The pieces fell, a snow of pure light tinkling against the ground.

(A stain of black fell amidst the light)

He snatched Wei Wuxian out from the air, falling to his knees with the slumped body, desperately feeling for Wei Wuxian’s power circuits.

(Weak, stretched to his limits)

He was wane, hair dull and skin an ashy grey, as if the light had burnt out all his colour. Lan Wangji clutched him close, breath quickening as he stroked ratty hair behind Wei Wuxian’s ear with trembling fingers.

“Wei Ying.”

Unforgivable. Wei Wuxian had been pushed this far.

(Again)

Lan Wangji had failed to protect him.

**(Again)**

_“Wei Ying_ ,” he begged the limp body in his arms, “ _Wei Ying, please_.”

He received no response, not even a twitch and he took in a deep shuddering breath, words catching.

“I’m here,” he promised, “W-Wei Ying, I’m right here. Please, _please_. . .”

He clenched fingers against the black hoodie and sobbed.

“. . . Lan Zhan?”

His head snapped up. Wei Wuxian blinked open dull eyes, hands weak and fluttering, “I . . . I need . . .”

“Yes.”

He got a firm grip on Wei Wuxian’s body, bending forward to place the Bogeyman against the ground. The Spirit exhaled, nauseous relief, as he sunk fingers into the darkness and half submerged his body down into the shadows.

Lan Wangji ran twitchy fingers, still half frantic, through the ratty hair.

A hand came up to entwine with his.

“You’re here . . .” Wei Wuxian slurred, looking up at him, vaguely incredulous.

(And why wouldn’t he be? What had Lan Wangji done except reject him, censure him, fought against him, drove him so far to the brink that Wei Wuxian had surrendered himself to his own final blow-)

“You’re here,” the Bogeyman repeated, clenching his eyes shut and letting out a faint laugh, “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you were unconscious when the night began. You shouldn’t even be up.”

“Wei Ying was in danger.”

The hand in his just tightened.

“Incredible,” Wei Wuxian exhaled.

(. . . What?)

Relief filled Lan Wangji as he saw the building light in those silver eyes, “Lan Zhan is truly incredible.”

“Should have been here sooner.”

Wei Wuxian blinked up at him, slowly lifting himself up and out from the darkness, shadows dripping off his arms and pooling beneath his hair as he stretched his arms up to Lan Wangji.

The Guardian of Light pulled him out immediately, holding him so tightly it would surely bruise but Wei Wuxian didn’t mind.

(He didn’t mind.)

The body in his arms shivered, “You’re _here_.”

“Always.”

“Lan Zhan . . .” Wei Wuxian exhaled, hand shifting to brush against Lan Wangji’s cheek, “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t a question.

It didn’t need to be.

“Forever,” he vowed, and Wei Wuxian smiled weakly up at him.

They were close, too close for their powers to separate, Lan Wangji’s light streaking through the rivers of Wei Wuxian’s shadows, each curling through the other.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, saying things like that - I’ll get spoilt.”

“Good.”

He didn’t know who moved first, but their lips were suddenly together, and Lan Wangji hung on for dear life.

It wasn’t what he’d imagined, wasn’t what he dreamed of. Was nothing like the dreams of soft reunions and twinkling lights, the selfish hope that had sustained him as he’d scoured the land for 1300 years, desperate to find an entrance to the Under Ream that hadn’t sealed itself off.

But it was happening.

It was more than he could have ever dreamed of.

(Wei Ying didn’t mind . . .)

No.

 _No_.

He couldn’t get his hopes up. How many times had he mistaken teasing for intimacy? Had interpreted special interest when it was nothing more than Wei Wuxian’s usual lack of boundaries?

Wei Wuxian moaned and bit down on his lip and Lan Wangji’s fear derailed.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian mumbled around his mouth, “stop getting so agitated. It’s ruining my first kiss.”

(. . . First?)

“Only for Wei Ying’s sake,” he spoke honestly and the Monster Under the Bed pulled back and gave him one of the brightest smiles Lan Wangji had ever borne witness too.

“I think I rather like that~”

Lan Wangji exhaled, before rechecking his circuits, “You are still light-exhausted.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be feeling it for a while,” he suddenly straightened, looking terribly miserable and Lan Wangji froze, double checking he hadn’t prodded a sensitive vein.

“Wei Ying?!”

“No, you’re fine, it’s just . . .” Wei Wuxian blew aside lock of his hair, “A-Yu’s going to be so smug.”

It took him a moment, for his placid demeanour to suddenly sour, panic visibly filling the Bogeyman.

“We have to stop Jin Guangyao.”

He’d sat up too fast and quickly winced as pain thundered through his body, Lan Wangji transferring some of his own power through to stabilise the other Spirit.

“He’s after A-Yu,” Wei Wuxian somehow managed to push himself up onto those trembling limbs, “He’s-”

“We know.”

The Bogeyman blinked dumbly at him.

“Wen Qionglin, Sizhui and Jingyi have gone to protect him.”

“. . . He was _ther_ e.” Wei Wuxian whispered, and his fingers dug into the front of Lan Wangji’s robes, _“_ it was _him_. He killed the Wens.”

“Yes.”

“We have to stop him.” Wei Wuxian struggled up and Lan Wangji moved to assist him, slinging the weakened Spirit into his arms and conjuring his lights.

“Yes. We will.”

“No matter what . . . “

Lan Wangji didn’t try to rouse him, more than content to press the warm presence close to his own.

(Lan Wangji couldn’t help the clench of his hands, a mere shadow of the rage he’d restrained in the Under Realm, as Sizhui babbled what he had seen in his memories, wrapped up in an almost sobbing Wen Ning’s arms.)

Properly swinging the Bogeyman into his arms, he picked himself off the ground and soared out, lights orbiting around him. The Lunars waiting outside didn’t get a moment to react before the doors flew open and the floating lantern smashed into them, sending their flightless bodies tumbling off the balcony, and down the immense central space. Lan Wangji didn’t spare them a glance, flying high, above the globes, above the highest levels of the balconies, right up to a small door at the very top of the Workshop, engraved with hundreds of time pieces.

He knocked on the door, concisely three times, entering almost before it had swung open.

Lan Qiren was sitting at his desk, surrounded by an entire sea of hourglasses, looking very much like he hadn’t moved in two years.

“Wangji,” he greeted, “is there a reason for your visit and _is that WEI WUXIAN IN YOUR ARMS_?”

He nodded, “Lianfang-zun murdered Chifeng-zun and captured Brother. Lunar soldiers have been given authority to patrol the Workshop in the meantime. Wei Ying and I are going to go stop him.”

He bowed, no small task considering the very limp weight in his arms, “I am aware you dislike leaving the clocks unattended, but I would ask you to keep watch over the Workshop until we’re back.”

Old Father Time just gaped at him.

“. . . Wangji?”

Lan Wangji blinked, “Also, Brother and I only have about ten believers right now. Please retrieve my body if we lose consciousness.”

“WANGJI?”

The small little museum was crushed in between a park and a flower shop, and the three Spirits descended there quickly. A simple flick of Lan Sizhui’s staff froze over the lock, Wen Ning snapped it and they were in.

As soon as they were inside, Lan Jingyi swung the door shut and Lan Sizhui put his sack on the ground, swiftly freezing the door shut behind them.

Wen Ning pulled the sack open and Mo Xuanyu crawled out.

“Are you all right?”

“I guess,” the human flopped onto his back and squinted, “that thing is definitely bigger on the inside. If a bit bumpy.”

“Sorry,” Jack Frost hovered near him, “I tried to fly smoothly.”

“Where is the head?” Wen Ning cut in and Mo Xuanyu inhaled, climbing to his feet.

“Right. We just have it in the back rooms - we couldn’t display something like it.”

They moved through the small museum, Mo Xuanyu unlocking the staff door and letting them in through to the back rooms where the casual staff had lunch, and the boxes of miscellaneous artefacts were stacked precariously.

He shuffled through to one of the more accessible ones.

Nestled inside, there lay the head of a vicious beast, wrought from golden lunar metalwork.

Within it, the Will thrummed, observing them carefully.

Lan Sizhui exhaled shakily, pulling back a part of his hood, “A-Qing? That’ your cue.”

The tiny fairy zoomed out from the fabric, flittering down to the immense object and lifting it easily.

“I can’t connect it properly, like you can,” she pointed out and Wen Ning shook his head.

“The Under Realm will deal with it - just get the head back on the body.”

She saluted, lifted up and then vanished in a snap of energy.

About three voices all exhaled in relief.

And then blinding white light flooded in through from the front rooms.

Wen Ning tackled Mo Xuanyu to the ground immediately, the other two Spirits flying high into the darkest corners.

Crouched behind the couch, both Spirit and human pulled their legs in from the light blazing around the edges.

“Please tell me that’s just the police coming to arrest us.” Mo Xuanyu mumbled. Wen Ning exhaled, kept one arm around him, and just reformed the other into a long, curved blade.

“A-Yuan. Lan Jingyi.”

Both straightened. Lan Sizhui clutched his staff. Lan Jingyi unsheathed his ice-formed sword.

The Spirit of Death’s face reflected eerily in his blade.

“Get ready.”

The staff door was ripped off its hinges, light blazing through and the Reaper pressed them even further down. The sound of marching feet were approaching and he held up his hands.

Each of his fingers shifted to a blade and absently detached them and flung them back.

He heard the cries of the Lunar soldiers, the stumble of light as they slouched in the doorway.

“A-Yuan!”

“Right!” The Winter Spirit stepped out, eyes wide despite the light, and slammed his staff’s head into the nearest wall. Frost exploded from the tip, an arctic wind billowing into existence around them. There were surprised yells as the entire doorway was frozen over, light only able to refract through.

“Is that it?” Mo Xuanyu asked, and Wen Ning shook his head. 

“We have to get up into the sky. Lunar people can’t fly.”

“Yeah, I can’t either.”

Wen Ning square his jaw, as his fingers reformed.

“Lan Jingyi, get us an exit.”

The Winter Solstice nodded, held his sword up like a javelin and, in a move that was likely disapproved by the Lan Family rules of Swordplay, hurled it straight up into the roof. The ice sliced clean through, leaving the sword wobbling in the ceiling and his eyes glowed silver. The sword pulse, bright and brighter, and Wen Ning dissolved half his body, just in time to scoop it up and over himself and Mo Xuanyu as a shield before the ceiling exploded and rubble rained down.

“Come on, let’s go,” Lan Sizhui immediately sailed up into the night sky, his cousin at his heels and grabbing his sword on the way out.

“Hold on,” Wen Ning warned, positioning Mo Xuanyu’s arms tight around his neck. The human nodded, hands white as the Reaper stepped up and flew after the two younger Spirits.

The four of them shot up into the sky, and the horde of Lunar soldiers awaiting them all trained moon spotlights right at them. About two-thirds were on the ground, focusing on training huge moon powered spotlights towards them. The remaining third sped towards them, whirring coming from each of the lunar engineered golden bikes they soared across the sky on, Dreamsand humming in the intricate metalwork.

As Wen Ning flinched away from the light, Lan Jingyi quickly twirled his blade. The ice broke into a volley of shards and he swiftly directed them straight into the spotlights. At his back, Lan Sizhui lifted his blade, inhaled deeply and then held his staff up high. It shone with bright light and a wave of frost exploded from the tip, freezing straight through the cogs and gears of the bikes and the Lunar soldiers let out panicked shrieked as they dropped out from the sky.

After a moment, Lan Sizhui directed his staff down. A storm of snow came swirling out and the Lunar soldiers and their bikes sunk straight into several metres of snow.

“Sizhui!”

“I just think that we shouldn’t hold ourselves at their level. We’re better than that-!”

They both screamed as moonlit bolts suddenly came at them.

The Reaper deftly intervened and they reflected cleanly off his transformed arms. In the darkness, the dark veins had begun to increase and black consumed his eyes.

“Hold him.” He handed over the human and Mo Xuanyu simply avoided looking down as the two younger Spirits got a good grip on him.

Wen Ning inhaled.

When he next turned to them, his face was hidden by a skull mask.

“Wait up here.”

He exploded into dark sand and even the Lunar soldiers seemed to forget their target, all anxiously turning around. 

The streetlights exploded, one by one, and small terrified whimpers sounded out from the army on the ground. They padded through the snow-covered street, back to back, the only sign of another presence coming from the occasional car alarm going off.

A wave of black sand burst into existence right in the centre and the soldiers all screamed, spinning inwards as huge blades cleaved through their weapons, vanishing again before they could counter-attack.

Across the group, Wen Ning struck again, in and out before they could do more than process than skull mask.

Gun parts and lights made dull thuds against the ground

(Watching from above, wide eyed, the Spirits quickly dropped towards the nearest, flattest roof, which appeared to be the local deli.)

The Lunar soldiers were in disarray, trying to catch him, trying not to shoot each other. Any time one tried to fix a spotlight, the two Winter Spirits from above deftly intervened.

For a brief moment, there was silence as the final gun was destroyed.

The Reaper loomed up and out of the very centre of the army and they all stumbled away as he stretched out his hands and a dark blade slashed across every single one.

(The snow crunched as each Lunar body hit the ground)

“Are they dead?” Lan Jingyi called down nervously from before and Wen Ning sighed, shrinking down to a normal size and removing his mask.

“No. They will just wake up with quite bad headache-”

He startled, turning back and holding up a bladed arm just as an incensed Night Mare roared out of the shadows and tried to bite his head off.

He decapitated it in a swing, soaring into the air just before a whole herd jumped on him, out from the shadows.

High above, the Moon shone.

“Now, now.”

Jin Guangyao’s boots clicked, steam cutting off as he landed atop a light pole, every inch of him resplendent.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

Behind him, the Moon blazed, and Wen Ning flinched back, hand up. The Man on the Moon held up a hand and the delicate clockwork in his hand twitched and whirred. Gun parts flew out from the wreckage, fixing themselves as he smoothed a glove-covered hand over them, the bolts inside intensifying in such proximity to their master.

Without aiming, he lifted the weapon and shot three bullets straight into the Reaper. Wen Ning snarled as he was pinned down, the ground cracking underneath him from the force of his crash. Jin Guangyao’s smile didn’t creak.

“I am very impressed, Wen Qionglin.” he spoke pleasantly as he aimed the next shot at the Reaper’s Centre. “1300 years of complete resistance and then you break free the moment Wei Wuxian calls? Consider me jealous. Sadly, whilst it was amusing to see you almost kill Xue Yang whilst unconscious merely for touching you, I really don’t need you.”

He turned and shot the icy blade shard right before it slammed into his head. His boots whirred and he flew back right before Lan Sizhui slammed his staff into the lamppost, freezing it so deeply that it let out a tortured creak and shattered.

The Man in the Moon watched as the two Spirits faced him down, both straightening in the air and baring their weapons. His smile deepened, soft and indulging.

“I really don’t want to hurt either of you. You’re both important to Er-ge, after all. Please stay out of this-”

Lan Sizhui’s kick slammed into his chest and he caught Jin Guangyao’s neck in the crook of his staff.

“My name as a mortal,” he hissed, “was Wen Yuan.”

(Jin Guangyao’s smile twitched)

“Ah, well, that does change things,” Lan Sizhui yelped as Night Mare bowled in him, dragging him away, teeth in his hood. Jin Guangyao reached up and caught hold of the staff right at the moment it pulled him away, and the Spirit’s fingers slipped free of the wood.

“I suppose,” he moved the crook out from his neck, staring down, almost sadly, at Jack Frost, “this means you’ll need to go too.”

He grasped both ends of the staff and slammed it down onto his knee.

(Blue light sparked)

Lan Sizhui screamed as the staff snapped in two, his power soaring loose from his weapon as the winds dropped around him and he slumped, loose and unable to resist.

The corrupted Night Mare let him simply fall to the ground and the Man on the Moon lightly tipped his golden top hat as Lan Sizhui tried to kick it on the way past.

“Don’t be so rude to them - they were an unwilling gift of parting gift from Xue Yang where I hurled him to Earth. I’m sure I treat them far better than he ever did, so please extend them the same courtesy.”

Lan Sizhui let out a vague mumble, entire body trembling as he pulled himself up, watching as the two useless parts of his staff clattered on the ground nearby.

He tried reaching out for them, and was treated to the sight of the still-prone Reaper, struggling to remove the blades burning him further in the ground, as the Night Mares .

(Fuck)

(They were fucked)

Jin Guangyao let his hat slide back to its proper place, sending up the signal for the attack.

An attack that didn’t come.

He frowned, properly, turning and glancing up at his dominion.

He tipped his hat again.

(Nothing)

Almost as if there as some sort of interference and oh the Winter Solstice was here too, wasn’t he?

Cheered up at knowing the cause, he turned and sought out where the other Spirit-in-training had vanished.

Lan Jingyi stood on the roof with Mo Xuanyu, both hands up and visibly trembling as his eyes turned white, body aglow with power, reaching up to ever so slightly reorientate the great power above them.

“Can’t you do this faster?” the human at his side asked anxiously. He grit his teeth.

“Well, _normally_ , I have a partner to help me out with this, so _no_ , I really really _can’t_.”

Mo Xuanyu glanced between him and the Moon, before whitening, “Look out!”

Lan Jingyi spun his head, just in time for Mo Xuanyu to grab his sword and catch the bolt of moonlight. The force of the blow sent the human flying across the roof, slamming against the side wall and Jin Guanyao settled with simply slamming his foot into the Winter Solstice. Lan Jingyi gasped, stumbling, concentration breaking, and the Man in the Moon backhanded him off the roof, eyeing the limp human speculatively.

Wen Ning scrambled to regather himself, snarling as he tugged out the pure bolts of moonlight, Lan Sizhui freezing over the injuries with his fingers, pale faced, and staff ends clutched under his arm.

Above them, Jin Guangyao glided closer, snarling, manic Night Mares advancing at his side.

“Sorry, dear boy, but this is just business.”

Mo Xuanyu blinked, before scrambling to his feet and back, right as the Night Mares loomed into his face.

(Like that night)

Jin Guangyao smiled, “Don’t be scared.”

(He blinked)

“Don’t joke with me.”

He looked the Man in the Moon straight in the eyes.

“My friend is a lot scarier than you.”

He reached up and stroked his hand across the Night Mare’s mane.

And golden sand exploded out from his fingertips. Jin Guangyao startled, a single backwards stumble, as the Night Mare dissolved into curling fountains of golden Dreamsand. Mo Xuanyu watched startled, before blinking and reaching out to pat another.

Jin Guangyao snarled as the Dreamsand increased, bursting up high and soaring through the skies. A golden blade formed in his hands, as he stepped forward.

He spun, barely catching Wen Ning’s blade as the Spirit of Death struck forward, easily ducking his return strike and bursting into black sand, impossible to accurately hit.

The Man in the Moon snarled, holding up his hands and the gravity pistons built into his gloves spun, yanking the Spirit back together.

“Your persistence is beginning to grow old, Wen Qionglin.” Above them, the Moon shone bright, finally realigned and ready to serve its ruler, “Please go without resisting.”

On the ground, Lan Sizhui desperately crunched the broken ends of his staff together, glancing up over and over, Lan Jingyi’s arm around his shoulder to support him.

Mo Xuanyu shifted, but mortals had to deal with things like fatigue and he almost collapsed on the spot.

(A bright beacon in the night)

Both Jin Guangyao and Wen Ning looked up sharply, and the Reaper barely had time to grab the mortal as the two leapt aside, right before a huge sword of light slammed into the roof and the entire building shattered into rubble.

(No more deli)

The two younger Spirits looked up and beamed.

“Hanguang-Jun!”

“Senior Wei!”

“Zewu-Jun!”

High above them, the three Spirits soared, the brothers side by side, both stern as _Bichen_ soared back into its master’s hand and Zewu-Jun unsheathed his two blades, the tattoos on his arms dark in the moonlight.

Wei Wuxian beamed, arms around Lan Wangji’s neck, the Guardian of Light’s spare arm holding his body close.

“Good evening, Jin Guangyao!” he called, voice ringing across the night sky, “We’re here to ruin your day!”

Jin Guangyao summoned a second blade, just in time for Lan Xichen to strike down.

The four swords crossed, metal screaming, as the Man in the Moon was forced into the sky, the ground beneath splintering on impact.

“Er-ge,” he cautioned, “you still have a fragile amount of power. This is unsafe.”

Lan Xichen blinked, lips thin. “Lunar Emperor Jin. There is no need for you to call me that anymore.”

Their blades broke up and Lan Xichen whipped a strike to the side. Jin Guangyao caught the defence, only to be hurled back across three blocks by the force alone. He yanked out his gun, only to find the sky before him vacant of the Guardian of Wonder, nothing but a faint cloud of soot above a single chimney, right near where they’d been.

He spun around, sword up just as Lan Xichen easily leapt out from the one behind him in a dark puff.

On the far side, Lan Wangji accepted the head pats from the two Spirits as they excitedly filled him in on what he’d missed, as Wei Wuxian dropped down beside Wen Ning and Mo Xuanyu. He wrapped the human up into his arms, exhaling into his shoulder as Mo Xuanyu hugged him in return.

Wei Wuxian pulled back, inspecting him, “You’re all right?”

The human nodded, and Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue, spying the faint traces of blood on his forehead. He quickly ran his hands over the injury, wiping the rest off with his sleeve.

“Aiyoh, what would you do without me?”

“A lot, surprisingly,” the human mumbled into his shoulder, “you took your time.”

“We were delayed - had to track down Zewu-Jun and free him and everything.”

“I see.” Mo Xuanyu eyed where Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s hands kept absently linking, “I was right then?”

Wei Wuxian stared at him with narrowed eyes, before lightly flicking his forehead.

“No being smug. Now get home, okay? Stay safe.”

“Yes, yes.”

The Bogeyman huffed, before spinning and embracing his best friend.

“You good?”

“Mm,” the Reaper made a small disgruntled noise, “couldn’t hold him off.”

“Yeah, well, don’t use fire pokemon against a water gym leader,” Wei Wuxian and he gripped each other’s forearms, power sharing freely between them, repairing the singed parts of Wen Ning’s body.

He had barely let go before Lan Sizhui tackled him.

He grunted, “Sizhui?”

The little Jack Frost pulled back, swallowed and just beamed, “I have something to tell you later. Really important.”

“Okay? Ah, your staff . . .”

“Can you fix it?” Lan Jingyi turned to his mentor anxiously and Lan Wangji shook his head.

“Shouldn’t have too,” the Guardian responded, nonplussed. “The power is Sizhui’s, not his staff.”

Lan Sizhui blinked up at him, before squaring his jaw and going to jam the ends together. A hand appeared on his shoulder.

“Don’t force it,” Wei Wuxian advised, “ _feel_ it.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, allowing the two ends to sink in together before closing his eyes and sharply exhaling. Cold winds billowed from his nose and blue light danced around the seam, the whole staff lighting up as Jack Frost’s power surged through it.

The two sword fighters turned as a Spirit took to the air with the force of a jet plane, an icy gale following behind him. Lan Xichen exhaled, turning and baring his two swords.

“Jin Guangyao, stand down,” he requested, “this is over.”

Jin Guangyao inspected him, before mirroring the stance, taught to him by Lan Xichen, “You know I can’t do that, Er-ge.”

Lan Xichen bared his teeth, “A-Yao, _please_. Don’t make me go through with this.”

Lan Wangji landed at his side, Wei Wuxian’s arm slung around him as his scythe settled into his hands. Lan Jingyi landed on the other side and high above them, Lan Sizhui began to call forth a storm.

Icy winds whistled around them as dark clouds gathered, blocking out the Moon and casting them into a shadow that had Wei Wuxian’s eyes turning red.

“You’ve lost, Jin Guangyao,” he pointed out, “everyone knows, and that head has probably been reunited with the body by now. It’s us or _that_.”

Jin Guangyao just frowned and moved his blades to an offensive position.

They all matched him.

And a whip of purple lightning lashed itself around Jin Guangyao’s wrist.

They all jumped, floating up, as the Spirit was dragged out into the open, right through Lan Sizhui’s snow, to find a completely regular sized Easter Bunny scowling down at him.

And beside him, golden Dreamsand returning to his being and mending the black stains on his chest, stood Jin Zixuan, his whole head surrounded in storm clouds.

“A-Yao.” The Lunar growled, “This is one line too far.”

“Guardians!” Lan Xichen ordered clearly, “Get the Man on the Moon!”

The four attacked as one, purple and gold and blue and white and green all twirling around each other. Above them, Lan Sizhui’s whole body glowed as he conjured a snow storm, directing it towards the fight.

Lan Jingyi just shifted at Wei Wuxian’s side.

“So what do we do?”

“You could be a dear and help out by interfering with the Lunar cycle.” He grinned, and raised his voice, “ _Both_ of you could.”

Lan Jingyi straightened and turned, already rolling his eyes as Jin Ling slunk out from the darkness.

He ruffled their hair, “Can you guys get that done?”

Jin Ling scowled at his balance, before turning, holding out his hands and letting his eyes turn golden. Lan Jingyi just sighed, nevertheless taking Jin Ling’s hands in his own and returning his eyes to white.

The two Solstices rose into the air and any moonlight peeking through was splintered as the two Spirits began to force the moon through its cycle.

Wei Wuxian nodded amicably, tapping his scythe against his shoulder.

“I guess that leaves us to just clean up the Night Mares.” He sighed.

(“Well, quoting you, wasn’t that what we were meant to be doing from the start?”)

He blinked and frowned at the scythe.

(“. . . You’re getting snarkier in your old age.”)

Wen Ning chuckled and Wei Wuxian just grinned, lunging into the herd of incensed Night Mares, stumbling about without their commander guiding them. He could feel their relief as they dispersed, the last remnants of Xue Yang’s experiments vanishing.

Beyond him, the sound of people getting smashed into buildings began to increase.

A rose arrow struck a Night Mare clean through the head before it could nick him and he blinked, turning with a beam.

Jiang Yanli twirled her bow around her wrist as she soared down, golden mechanically engineered wings beating behind her, her husband’s Dreamsand coating them to complete their shape.

“It’s unlike you to get distracted in combat, A-Xian,” she smiled, unhooking her bow and deftly shooting another one of the Night Mares.

“Well, in my defence,” he grinned as his sister dropped down at his back, “I’m trying to get a glimpse of the main show.”

She hummed, a musical little laugh, as she slammed her arrows into the ground, jammed the sharpened end of her bow through a Night Mare’s head and moved to a kneel.

“Less talk, more clean up, A-Xian.”

He grinned, twirled his scythe around his neck and the two siblings annihilated the last of the Night Mares.

Jin Guangyao came soaring past them slamming into a building as Jiang Cheng dropped down beside them.

“Hey.”

“Hello A-Cheng.”

“A shame,” Wei Wuxian pouted at him, “I always liked you more when you were fluffy.”

Jiang Cheng turned to him with a scowl, absently hurling an egg bomb straight at the Man on the Moon, “Remind me to never be anxious about you again.”

Wei Wuxian stuck out the tip of his tongue with a grin.

Their sister whacked the both of them.

The others settled down around them and Wei Wuxian beamed as Lan Wangji came beside him, linking their hands, Lan Sizhui settling down on his other side.

“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen spoke for them all, calmly. “Let’s stop this.”

A faint grunt was his answer and Santa Claus sighed, turning.

The Sandman nodded, “I’ve got it.”

Chains of gold formed in his hands and he took a step forward.

Xiao Xingchen came flying between them all, rainbow blade up, spare hand cradling the tiny fairy and mouse at his shoulder.

“Xiao Xingchen?” Jin Zixuan frowned at him in shock. The Tooth Fairy just got to his feet with a wobble, wings fluttering.

“We can’t hold him off any longer!” he said grimly.

And from whence he came, a deep metallic howl filled the night.

The Guardians mobilised immediately, Lan Wangji dragging Wei Wuxian behind him as both Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng stepped in front of Jiang Yanli.

(Lan Xichen’s gaze flickered towards the prone Man on the Moon)

The golden armour came sprinting out from the trees, bulldozing anything it came across. Within in, the Will of Nie Mingjue raged. Jiang Wanyin hurled his whip around one hand as Jin Zixuan threw his chain across the other end. Both of the Lan Brothers pulled out swords, taking positions on opposite ends and ramming them into the ground.

The barrier soared up, binding the rampaging Will and Lan Sizhui froze it clean through.

Wei Wuxian padded forward, casually letting his scythe fall down so Wen Ning could reform beside him.

“You’ll get one shot at this, Wen Ning.”

“I know.”

The Spirit roared and both Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan grunted as they dragged through the ground.

Wei Wuxian lightly coasted up, calling his shadows to pull on the Will, submerging it as black sand began to swirl around its head.

(He entered)

(He witnessed Nie Mingjue’s Night Mare through to its end)

And there he sat, in the dream world of black sand, stroking the crying Night Mare, as it shuddered and shuddered and shuddered, trying to resist the Spirit of Death’s call.

(Wei Ying)

The dream rumbled and he frowned, before gasping in pain as Nie Mingjue tried to throw him out.

(Wei Ying)

The Night Mare lurched up, screaming and he called it to him quickly, dream collapsing around them.

(WEI YING)

He fled the dream, Lan Wangji catching him deftly as he gazed around, disorientated. He watched, pulse pounding in his ears, as Nie Mingjue forcefully woke up and smashed through the Lan brothers’ barrier, sending the bindings on his wrists flying. Behind him, Wen Ning stumbled, dissolving and reforming over and over again after being thrown off.

The Old Spirit of Halloween dashed forward and Lan Xichen threw himself in front of the Man in the Moon, screaming Nie Mingjue’s name.

The Will didn’t stop.

An arm made of golden sand and mechanics hurled the Guardian of Wonder to safety and they all watched as that golden hand pierced through the Man on the Moon.

Jin Guangyao inhaled sharply, face tightening as the armour rumbled.

The golden sand forming the Lunar’s body began to crumple, turning back to dust as the mechanical skeleton hit the ground. The Will let out a final heaving sigh, and vanished entirely, leaving the golden armour to fall with an echoing clang amidst the lunar technology.

And just like that.

It was over.

Hands were at Wei Wuxian’s shoulders and he turned to clench them in return.

Lan Wangji was staring ahead with wide eyes. Lan Sizhui hugged them both.

He sighed and slumped back and just gripped them all the more tightly.

(It was over.)

* * *

The Spirit of Halloween was perched in a tree top overlooking his brother’s tomb.

“I built it almost a millennia ago.” He said, even before Wei Wuxian lighted down behind him, “the locals considered it haunted grounds - not a single one protested when a tomb appeared.”

“Is there even any point in a tomb?” Wei Wuxian mused, relaxing back, hands behind his head and eyes tilted to the stars above, “Chifeng-zun had passed on.”

Nie Huaisang snapped his fan shut with a faint exhale, “Yes. He finally has.”

The two remained in quiet company, watching as stars began to fall from the sky. Nie Huaisang wafted his fan.

“So what now?”

“What now indeed . . .” Wei Wuxian exhaled, “Well, Lan Zhan’s retired. So that’s a thing.”

“I heard,” the Spirit of Halloween kept his gaze on the tomb, “I heard Jack Frost is now the the Fifth Guardian.”

“Yep,” he shifted his spot, unable to stop the vein of pride, “he absolutely is.”

(His little Nightlight, safe and sound and joining the Guardians)

“The Guardian of Peace,” Nie Huaisang smiled, “goodness knows we need it.”

“I hope not,” Wei Wuxian cracked his neck, coasting back into the air, “I’ve been barely back after 1300 years of exile and I had to deal with all _this!_ Can I have the next 1300 years nice and peaceful please?”

Nie Huaisang snorted.

Wei Wuxian turned away from and just exhaled. He was pushing his time limit now, “Well, I need to head off. See you at Halloween then, Nie-xiong.”

Nie Huaisang blinked up at him, fan slowing, “. . . Seriously?”

Wei Wuxian rolled his tongue, before winking, “You know I’m always down for some good scares.”

“. . . Right.” Nie Huaisang dipped his head, “You have somewhere to be?”

“Sure do,” he winked, “I have a hot date~”

Nie Huaisang covered his mouth with his fan and Wei Wuxian grinned, falling happily back through the darkness.

Lan Wangji didn’t react as he danced out, the ex-Guardian sitting peacefully atop the highest tower of the Workshop. Above them, the arctic sky spread forth, millions of stars lighting up the dark sky.

Wei Wuxian settled himself in Lan Wangji’s lap.

“You missed the start of the meteor shower.”

“I had something important to do.” He tilted his head back, pressing his lips against that smooth jawline, “Don’t be jealous, Lan Zhan~ I’m all yours now.”

Lan Wangji hummed, pleased, nosing into his neck. Wei Wuxian giggled, teasing their shadows together.

“Lan Zhan, you’re not really looking at the meteors right now.”

“Wei Ying is the best view.”

He beamed.

The next words were faintly disapproving.

“You missed Sizhui’s Vow.”

“Of course I did,” he leant back, snuggling into that chest as arms wrapped around him, “Me? Standing around as Old Man Lan drones on and on in the stuffiest room in the Workshop? No way would I be caught dead there. I’ll take A-Yuan out to celebrate later. Properly. Wen Ning will probably come too.”

“I will come,” Wei Wuxian let out an excited gasp, spinning to beam at his partner, who just stared firmly down at him, “to supervise.”

“Pfft, Lan Zhan, that’s not how this works. I’m sure I could persuade you to involve yourself in the fun.”

“Will not.”

“Urk, Lan Zhan, so stern,” Wei Wuxian’s lips curled up coquettishly, “in that case, maybe I could persuade you to involve yourself in some more private fun afterwards~”

“Mm.”

Wei Wuxian promptly pulled back slightly, gasping, scandalised, “Lan Zhan! Were you _waiting_ for me to proposition you?”

Lan Wangji blinked at him.

He gave a simple nod and Wei Wuxian gasped dramatically as his partner pulled him back against that firm chest.

Really firm.

Reaallyyy firm.

“Wei Ying.”

“I am not the only one groping here, Lan Zhan!” he chirped happily and Lan Wangji nodded in agreement, not moving his hand from Wei Wuxian’s backside. The Bogeyman hummed, settling back down properly and running his fingers along Lan Wangji’s arm.

“. . . Lan Zhan?”

“Hm?”

“Are you sure about retiring?”

Lan Wangji nodded, nuzzling close, “Want to spend forever with Wei Ying.”

“Really?” he puckered his lips, “But you’ll still have to work - oh and I will too!”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You _will_?” Wei Wuxian grinned, “Goodness, the Spirit of Light, wandering around Night Mares, what would people think?”

“Don’t care.”

Wei Wuxian snorted, but his stroking nevertheless slowed. Lan Wangji turned his head in question.

“Wei Ying?”

“What does your Uncle think?”

Lan Wangji huffed, “Uncle is . . . dealing with it.”

“Sorry.”

“No need,” Lan Wangji kissed the top of his head, “Wei Ying doesn’t need to apologise for anything.”

Wei Wuxian smiled up at him.

“Forever, right?”

“Forever.”

He pulled his partners head down, pushed in long and slow and happy as Lan Wangji bit down on his lip. The heart under his hand beat and even though Centres were intangible, Wei Wuxian knew he could feel Lan Wangji’s Kindness radiating out, soft and sweet and strong.

A brilliant thought occurred to him, and he pulled back with a grin.

“Hey, Lan Zhan?”

“Hm?”

“We should get married.”

Lan Wangji blinked.

“. . . Truly?”

“Of course!” he shifted around, circling in place so that he could hug Lan Wangji properly. “Shijie gets to officiate so few of _our_ kind’s weddings. She’d get so stroppy if we didn’t let her-”

Lan Wangji didn’t let him finish.

As the bright stars fell to the darkened Earth, the world dimmed before the two Spirits entwined forevermore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's still the 26th SOMEWHERE in the world
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE and I'm wishing you all the HAPPIEST NEW YEAR!!  
> This fic has been so much fun and Pain but mostly fun and I'm really happy I decided to do this.  
> I'm so so grateful to all my readers y'all were so much of my motivation and I hope I did this story justice and finished it well.
> 
> Would you believe me if I told you that the thing WWX wanted to see most of all whilst in that cage was LWJ?
> 
> Final, Final, Cast Call:  
> LQR: Old Father Time
> 
> Thank you all! Have a wonderful end of Year!!  
> Chatonnerie


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